


Five Times Baz Went to Chemistry and One Time He Didn't

by ThroneofMist



Series: Carry On, Simon [1]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Baz and Simon get drunk together, Baz is a footballer, Baz is a v good tutor, Baz is maybe the most angsty teen to ever live, Dev and Niall are v good bros, Emo Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Penelope is suspicious of Baz, Sad Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Simon is going to fail Chemistry, Simon is v oblivious to Baz's pining, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Watford (Simon Snow), because is he PloTtIng, footballer, yep you heard me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-06-27 07:54:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15681201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThroneofMist/pseuds/ThroneofMist
Summary: I look over Snow’s shoulder to see that he’s highlighted the whole page in his Chemistry book. He looks up at me and bites his lip sheepishly. Crowley, does he know how attractive he is? Maybe I’m actually incredibly stupid and Snow knows how deeply in love I am with him and he’s using his little lip bites and shrugs against me. That’s something he would do. The wanker.“That kind of defeats the point,” I tell him, shaking my head lightly.“But you told me to highlight what I don’t get,” he says, frowning as he looks down at the page. “I don’t get any of it.”





	1. Echo of the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by - "Five Times Baz Went to Chemistry and One Time He Didn't," posted August 2009 by FanFixx.net authors Magicath and Wrenegade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy x

BAZ

I look up from my book when the door slams open. Snow's standing in the threshold, covered head to toe in mud. His sword dangling from his hand. It's covered in blood. Leaves and sticks are stuck in his golden hair and his crappy Adidas jumper's torn; his chest on complete show. That's also streaked with dirt, and it takes longer than I'm okay with admitting, to look up at his face. Which, to be fair, is just as nice to look at as his chest. Then I notice the blood practically pooling from his arm and the cuts on his face.

"I don't think I even have anything witty to say," I say as I sit up on his bed, letting the book slide of my chest. Snow drops his sword on the floor. I crinkle my nose. "I mean, you look like you've been living in a tip. Which, I suppose you have." I grin to myself. "I guess I do have something witty to say."

Snow doesn't even say something, which is quite disheartening. He just looks at me, slightly narrowing his eyes, before he practically stomps into the bathroom. He grabs his new uniform from his bed before he slams the bathroom door.

I look up at the clock on the wall, and sigh. It's dinner time already. But I don't want to leave Snow alone. I want to know what happened. And I want to know if he's okay. I snarl at myself for even caring. I slide off my bed and walk out of out room, (stepping over his fucking sword) slamming the door, just as Snow had done minutes before.

Snow has never been this late to school before. Normally, he's back the first day he possibly can be. He's always arrived at Watford before me. I don't think I've ever had the room to myself before. But I've been here a week already, and Snow's just now got here? Something must've happened. Something to do with the Humdrum no doubt. He's probably been off on some mental adventure with Bunce and Wellbelove. Maybe they've finally stopped the Humdrum,. Maybe they've finally ended at least one war. Now there's two others to be done with. Part of me wishes that Snow would just kill me, and that that might end the war between the Old Families and the Mage. It won't. I know it won't. It would just cause the war to get even worse. My father would retaliate, and if Snow offed me, then that would make the Mage look like a psychotic, teenage murderer and everyone would rally against him even more.

So maybe it would be a good thing. At least if Snow killed me, I wouldn't have to kill him. Because we both know that's what it's going to come down to. One of us will end the other. And it'll be Simon Snow that'll win. Because he's the golden boy, the protagonist, the hero. He's the Chosen One. And I'm the stone cold, vampire. The villain. That makes my throat bob. I'm the villain in Snow's story. And I know that's all I'll ever be. I don't know if I'll make it through three more years with him. Maybe I won't have to. Maybe I won’t fight anymore.

*

Snow's late to dinner. He tries to sneak in, but it doesn't help that he's half an hour late, everyone else is already sat down, and the door makes a massive creaking sound as he pushes it open. Everyone turns to watch him as he walks down the dining hall before he sits down next to Bunce and Wellbelove. If it had been anyone else, everyone would be back to talking and eating now. But because it's Simon fucking Snow, the chosen one, everyone keeps watching. Snow just awkwardly looks down as he walks, high fiving some some guy at his table (I think his name's Rhys)

He's changed into his uniform, but he still looks like shit. Somehow, even his uniform looks untidy, even though it's brand new; a new ironed, red jumper and grey trousers. I have no idea where his blazer is. Snow doesn't like wearing it. He says it's itchy.

I watch as he takes Wellbelove's hand across the table and smiles softly at her. I turn away.

"Why does Snow have a massive cut down his face?" Niall asks. His eyes are brown, I realise as I look at him. Maybe he's given up spelling them. I hope so. 

"Don't know," I shrug as I move the carrots on my plate around with my fork. "Don't give a fuck." I look up just in time to see Dev and Niall look at each other. "Yes?" I ask, my tone cold. Dev just shrugs.

"That sounds like a lie. You always used to care what he and Bunce were up to. Now you act like you don't care." These two are practically the only people in the school that can talk to me.

"I don't care. Anymore," I say, leaning back in my chair.

"But what if it's something to do with you?" Niall asks, leaning forward and widening his eyes. "With your family?"

I just narrow my eyes. "Snow always looks a mess," I shrug. "I don't see why we're suddenly caring about it now." Conversation over. Dev and Niall both understand and Niall starts going on about the football team this year. I don't listen. I don't need to. Football'll be fine for me this year. Just like every year.

It's Snow I'm worried about. I look over at him. He's talking to Bunce, although it looks like they're arguing rather than talking. Bunce is using her hands as she talks and Snow's jaw is clenched as he shakes his head. Wellbelove is just sitting there, holding Snow's hand, looking beautiful as always. What a trio.

"Are you taking Chem this year?" I turn back to Dev and Niall. I hope they make it out of this okay. I nod in answer to Dev's question. He laughs. "Ha. I'm so fucking glad I could give that up." I roll my eyes. 

"I like Chemistry."

"We'll see if you'll be saying that by the end of the year," Niall laughs as he shovels another pile of potatoes onto his plate. If only they knew how low down a priority Chemistry was for me.

*

I hate Chemistry.

"We're already roommates," I argue. "I shouldn't have to be his lab partner, as well. You're asking me to bear far more than my fair share of apple-cheeked protagonist."

Every girl in the laboratory sits on the edge of her stool, ready to take my place.

"That's enough about my cheek," Snow mutters, blushing heroically.

"Honestly, Professor," I say, waving my wand towards Snow in a _just look at him_ gesture. Snow catches the end of the wand and points it at the floor.

Professor Chilblains is unmoved. "Sit _down_ , Mr. Pitch. You're wasting precious lab time."

I slam my books down at Snow's station. Snow put's his safety goggles on and adjusts them; it does nothing to dim his blue eyes or blunt his glare. "For the record," Snow grumbles. "I don't want to spend any more time with you either." 

 _Stupid boy_...I sigh to myself, taking in Snow's tense shoulders, the flush of anger in his neck, and the thick fall of bronze hair partially trapped in his goggles... _What do you know about_ want?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos make me very happy so feel free to leave some!


	2. We Both Know the Way that the Story Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you cast that spell one more time, I’ll kill you. Merlin’s beard.”

BAZ

I swear colourfully when Dev dives to the other fucking side of the net, the ball slamming into the back. He stays there, lying on his back as he pinches the bridge of his nose. The Woodside team start laughing and jumping, running into each other as they all celebrate. One of them makes eye contact with me so I scowl, my eyes narrowed. He gulps and looks away, pulling at his yellow strip.

Even though we’re a magical fucking school and our football team is made up of fucking wizards and one witch (Elizabeth Potter is an incredible midfielder. So fucking good that she made the team. I kinda feel a bit bad for Elizabeth. Do you know how hard it is for a witch to have the surname Potter?) we still play other schools in football. Normally, we’re unbeatable, without magic, aswell. But for some reason, everyone’s acting like they’ve never seen a football today. Epscially Dev.

I shoot him a look before we take our positions again and he just shrugs, smiling apologetically as he runs a hand through his brown hair. I roll my eyes. We’re drawing, but there’s only four minutes left. I roll back my shoulders as I wait for everyone to take their place. I run my eyes over the seats at the side. There’s not a lot of Watford students, there’s only about seventeen. And there’s about fifty Woodside students watching.

Snow’s here, and that alone would be enough to make me nervous. The fact that we’re about to draw isn’t helping. I watch him while he’s talking to Bunce. She’s got an open book on her lap and it looks like she’s ignoring Snow. But either he doesn’t realise or doesn’t care that he still talking to himself, because I can see his grin from all the way over here. I can also see the massive cut he has on his face. He’s not mentioned it. I’ve not asked. 

I blink when the whistle goes and start sprinting. Gareth has the ball and when I shout his name, he sees me and kicks it over. I run my tongue over my lips as I start to sprint even faster. I don’t know if being a vampire makes me faster, or if I’m just naturally amazing, but I’d like to see these Normals try and catch me. I dash forward, dodging the others as they dive for me. One of them tries to deck me, sliding on the grass, but I practically jump over his feet, speeding up even faster. 

My green and purple (I know, hideous) strip is sticking to my chest and sweat is dripping down my forehead. My hair’s in a low bun but it’s falling out and blowing in my face as I run. I know I’m flushed but I don’t even care. All I care about is winning this fucking game. At least it is, until I hear someone screaming my name. 

“Baz! Come on, Baz!”

It takes me a second to register that it’s Snow. Snow is screaming my name. As in my actual name. Not tosser or bastard or prick. My actual, genuine name.

At first I think something’s wrong. That there’s a dragon again, or the Humdrum’s sent a swarm of killer fucking imps or something. Because why else would Snow be yelling my name in a crowd. But there’s no panic or anger in his voice. Then I realise he’s cheering me on. And it makes me run even faster. 

I lock my eyes on the goalie and I grin a malicious grin when his throat bobs and I see him anxiously shift his weight from one foot to the other. Then I slam the ball into the back of the net. All the Watford students (except Bunce, who’s still reading) jump up and cheer, laughing and grinning as they punch the air. But all I can see is Snow, only a few feet away from me, grinning and clapping, the wind tossiling his bronze, pretty curls. 

And because I’m so full of adrenaline and because he’s right there and he looks cute and he said my name and cheered me on, I smile at him. The first genuine smile I’ve ever aimed at Snow in my life.

He smiles back, but I know it’s just instinctive (not because it’s me) because Snow’s just a good person. He’s literally _the_ good person. His eyes widen and he nudges Bunce slightly before he smiles even more, which makes me want to smile more but before I know it I’m being tackled by practically the whole team and I’m suddenly in the air, my whole team carrying me up. 

“You fucking did it!” Dev laughs, patting my shoulder. I’m about to answer when I swear I hear Snow say, he smiled at me. Do you think he’s plotting something? and my heart falls slightly. Which is stupid, because I knew he wasn’t cheering _me_ on. He was cheering his team on, and I happened to have the ball. Snow would never cheer me on. 

I shrug nonchalantly at Dev and grin. “Of course I did. Someone has to lead this team."

*

"I still can't believe we won!" Niall laughs. 

" _We_ didn't," Dev rolls his eyes, shutting the open book in front of him as he pulls a new one towards him. "The team did. As in me and Baz. As in people who are actually _on_ the team." Niall frowns as I laugh lightly. We're in the library and I'm trying to study, but Niall's nonstop fan-girling is putting me off. 

I lean back in my chair and stretch my arms out. We may have won, but it took a lot of fucking running. My legs are still on fire even though I’ve cast _**No Pain, No Gain**_ about ten times. It’s a stupid spell that doesn’t even really work. It’s meant to ease muscles after excersise, but it doesn’t really work, probably because the spell is a contradiction. Some idiotic eight year came up with it a couple years ago and people just started using it.

I pull my wand out from my blazer pocket and start to utter the spell when Niall kicks me. I hiss because a) that fucking _hurt_ and b) because trying to intercept a spell is stupid. High level stupid.

“If you cast that spell one more time, I’ll kill you. Merlin’s beard.” 

I narrow my eyes at him before I sigh and lean my head back, when a mop of shining bronze curls catches my eyes. I sit up straight before I turn in my chair. Snow’s standing at a shelf, a book titled Chemistry In the World of Mages in his hands. I gulp as he runs a hand through his hair and bites his lip, because Crowley, it’s the most beautiful thing in the whole damned world. 

And then I remember what Snow said to Bunce at the game, after I smiled at him, and I frown. Seeing my face, Dev follows my eyeline to Snow who’s frowning at the book. “What? Do you think he’s planning something? Do you know what all the cut and his limp’s about yet?”

I shake my head. I don’t. I don’t care. Let Snow run off on mad quests for the Mage like the hero he is. Like the Chosen One he is. Sometimes I let myself think about how different my life would be if Snow wasn’t the Chosen One. If he was just Snow. 

Maybe we’d have fallen in love by now. Maybe we’d walk through the corridors hand in hand. Maybe he’d come to mine for Christmas, and my father would like him, not despise him. Maybe we’d study together. Maybe I could run my hands through his curls of gold. Maybe I wouldn’t have to pine for him, like a fucking idiot. Or at least if I could pine for him, there might be a sliver of hope. 

Or maybe nothing would change. I’d still be an evil vampire Grimm-Pitch and he’d still be a golden knight. He’d still be good. And I’d still be hopelessly fucked. 

Snow might be the Chosen One. But he could be more. He could still be a kid, with a life, without carrying a fucking sword around constantly. But he’s not, because the only thing Snow let’s himself be is the Chosen One. The Mage’s Heir. My nemesis. My end. 

“I’m really tired,” I tell Dev and Niall as I shut my book and spell it back to it’s shelf.

“Yeah we know. You’ve told us about seventh times, you moany twat,” Niall says, a grin on his face. I snort as I pat him on the shoulder. I stand up and roll my shoulders back.

“I may be a moany twat, Niall. But at least I’m on the team.” Dev bursts out into hoarse laughter as Niall scowls and folds his arms. “Night,” I nod to them. Dev says it back before he continues to write in the book (I don’t know why he’s bothering, it’s Political Science which he’s fine at, maybe he’s just nervous for the exam coming up) and Niall just huffs and continues to frown. 

As I’m walking out of the library, I see Snow sitting at a table in the back of the room on his own. It’s strange, seeing him anywhere without Bunce. And if Bunce isn’t with him, it’s Wellbelove, or one of his many, _many_ other vexatious friends. It’s weird seeing Snow alone. Which it shouldn’t be, because I see him alone everyday in our room. But it’s weird watching him alone, _reading_  aswell. 

He’s surrounded by books about every single subject, and his hands are in his hair again. He’s frowning, his face stiff; his teeth gritted and his jaw clenched. He looks stressed. It’s only when he looks up that I realise I’m staring. His blue eyes lock into mine and instead of just walking away, or blushing. I sneer, my eyes running over the many books around him and arch an eyebrow. Snow frowns, blinking before he slams the book he’s holding shut, stand still up and dispappears behind a shelf. 

I gulp. Then I walk out. I’m such a prick. I just taunted him, for what? Because I couldn’t stand him suspecting that I was watching him so I made him feel bad? Crowley, I am such a fucking bastard.

This is why Snow and I would never work. Even if he wasn’t the Chosen One. Even if I wasn’t a fucking vampire. Because Snow’s a decent human being. And I’m the opposite. 

Becuase Snow is good and true and pure and gold.

And I’m everything he stands against.


	3. I Will Lift You Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Ten o'clock."

BAZ 

I look up at the clock on the wall. There's still twenty minutes left. And I've already finished the test. I scan over my answers, not changing anything before I sneak a look at Snow. He's still on the first page, and he's gotten most of the questions wrong. He's chewing on the bottom of his pen as he narrows his eyes at the paper. You can't threaten a test, Snow, I want to tell him. I know for sure he doesn't even care about Chemistry. We once had an argument about why we had to take Chemistry, or any of the other Normal subjects we have to take at Watford.

"Just because we have magic, doesn't mean we don't need an education, Snow," I rolled my eyes.

"Yes it does!" he'd argued. "We have _magic_. We don't need anything else."

"Careful Snow, you're starting to sound like the Old Families."

He just scowled.

I mean, he doesn't need to care. I highly doubt the Mage remembers what isomers are. I don't know why Snow's getting himself into such a fuss about it.

I watch as he runs a hand through his bronze curls, tussling it around. He looks anxious. He looks scared. He looks like he's going to faint. Its unnerving. I shuffle around on my seat, looking around the classroom. Everyone else is still working (except Bunce, who's staring at Snow with a worried look on her face), staring down at their papers as the sound of scratching pencils fill the room. Well that and Snow's deep breathing. He does that when he's nervous. I used to think it was infuriating. Now it's just something I've accepted as a part of Snow.

I look up just as Professor Chilblains scans the class. Then she sits back down at her desk and starts to mark some other tests, frowning. I rest my head on my hands, already dreading the next half an hour with nothing to do but be overly aware of every move I make next to Snow. 

He sighs through gritted teeth when ink spills from his pen. What an idiot. He looks up at me, and I’m expecting him to scowl, but he just frowns slightly, his eyes wandering to my completed paper before he looks at his _not_ completed paper. Then he leans back in his chair and drops his pen onto the table. He’s giving up. He’s quitting.

He tips his head back and throws a forced smile when he makes eye contact with Bunce. She arches an eyebrow. He shakes his head.

I shake my own head as I turn away from them. It’s so weird how they can talk without speaking. If I didn’t know them, I might think it’s magic, but it’s not. It’s just... _friendship_. I shudder. It’s weird as fuck, that’s what it is. 

I sneak a glance at Snow as he and Bunce do their weird telepathy. He's disgarded his blazer once more, just like he does everyday. If anyone else chose to not wear their blazer everyday, they'd get detention, but because it's Simon Snow, the Mage's fucking Heir, the pride of Watford, he can do whatever he pleases. And no one even cares. 

Snow turns back around and sighs. I can hear him gritting his teeth. This is un-fucking-bearable. I bite my lip looking down at Snow. He’s pouting and he’s folded his arms. He looks like a fucking child. I roll my eyes and tell myself to face away, to just sit still and don’t do anything. But I don’t listen. I don't even listen to my-fucking-self anymore. Snow has really messed up my priorities.

I shoot a glance at Professor Chilblains, and when I see that she’s not looking, I slowly pull Snow’s paper over to me. He frowns and slams his hands on top of it, thudding against the wooden desk. Professor Chilblains looks up at us, but Snow doesn’t notice becuase (he’s so fucking dense) he’s staring at me. I kick him under the desk and he turns to the professor, blinking before he shrugs apologetically. I just school my face into a cast of boredom. 

She narrows her eyes at us before she goes back to marking. I clench my jaw and widen my eyes at Snow when he looks up at me again. He frowns, suspicious, but lets me slide his paper over to me. I look down at it for a moment, and realise that what I’m doing is really fucking stupid, but I’m already practically doing it, so I start fixing it. I scribble out most of his mistakes and write the correct answers before I hand it back to him. He grabs it out of my hands, scowling as his blue eyes read what I've done, before they widen. He freezes before he turns to me, his head cocked.

He's still got the massive gash down his face, I'm surprised no one's cast  _ **Early to Bed and Early to Rise**_ on him yet. Maybe it's a magic injury - they're harder to heal. I bet I could do it. There's a spell; **_Healing of the Heart,_** that I've been reading about, that I bet I could do. It only works if you're seriously in love with the person you want to heal. In love as in, would rather die than lose them love. I think most of the spells in the World of Mages were created by angsty teenagers.

"What are you doing?" Snow asks me. I think he tries to hiss it but it comes out confused and meek. I just shrug, and turn back to the front. I'm deadly aware of Snow staring at me for the rest of the period but I just keep still, holding my breath.

When the bell rings, I stand up quickly and storm out of the class, ignoring Snow calling my name. What the fuck did I just do?

*

I walk through the corridors, letting my feet take me wherever. I don't care where I go right now, just as long as I get away from Snow. To be honest, Australia would be the most preferable place to be right about now. Well, maybe not. Flammable and all that. I sigh as I turn the corner and realise that I've ended up at the library. I look up at the massive, wooden doors and sigh, running a hand through my hair. I push the door open slowly and slip into the room. There’s only a of students here. There’s a clump of first-year students around one table, all of them muttering spells that shut their books or untie their shoes. There’s a couple of people on their own, just studying, all of different ages. 

There’s a group of three girls in my year sitting at a table right next to where I’m currently hovering. I don’t know their names. They grin up at me and they look like they’re gonna try and talk to me. Fuck that. I nod at them before I walk right to the back of the library, leaving them scowling behind me. 

As soon as I sit down at the empty table tucked away behind the shelves, and let myself breathe, I hear Snow’s fucking booming voice. Is this some sort of sick punishment? Was I a really shit person in my last life? I thought the vampire thing was punishment enough, but no. Of fucking course not. I had to have Snow thrown into my life aswell.

Myabe he's just here to study. Or maybe he’s just meeting Bunce. 

“Have you seen Baz?”

Or maybe not.

Fuck my shitting fucking life.

“Yeah, he’s back there, I think.”

“Oh, thanks, Rose.”

I hold my breath as Snow turns the corner and our eyes meet. Then he frowns; his round nose crinkling and his brows furrowing. I narrow my eyes as he sits directly across from me. I don’t speak. If he wants to fucking talk then he can talk. We sit in silence for a moment, Snow obviously trying his very hardest to not talk. He clenches his jaw and grits his teeth before he finally gives in. 

“What are you doing?” 

I know he’s asking about the test and why I did, but I don’t even really know why I did it myself, so there’s no way I’m making this easy for him. Also, I’m an asshole and delight in pissing him off.

“Studying,” I shrug. He frowns.

"Where's your book then?" he asks, folding his arms. It's my turn to frown. I don't say anything just lean back in my own chair.

"Why'd you help me?"

"Because you were going to fail. Miserably," I shrug. Liar. I'm such a fucking liar. I helped you Snow, because I'm in love with you and your stupid, fucking face.

Snow pouts and has the gall to look sheepish, as if he even should. "I don't understand Chemistry. It's stupid." He scratches the back of his neck, awkwardly.

A thought pops into my head and I instantly want to slam it out. But I don't. "What are you doing on Friday, ten o'clock?"

He arches an eyebrow before he runs a hand through that fucking hair. That hair keeps me up at night. "Nothing. Why?" he adds, suspicion creeping into his voice.

"Be here. Bring your Chemistry stuff," I tell him. Crowley, I'm breaking all my rules today. He shakes his head.

"I'm not doing anything with you, Baz," he hisses, using my name like a curse. I try to not flinch. 

"Fine. Fail Chemistry. S'not my fault," I say as I stand up. Even though it was't ever my fault, but I'll feel guilty if I at least don't try and help him. He stands up as well, his eyes locking onto mine. A muscle ticks in his jaw as he bites the inside of his cheek. He licks his lips and I try to not let my legs wobble.

"Ten o'clock," he says before he walks out, his back stiff.

Well. That just happened.

 


	4. Finally Believe In You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're going to force me to continue to teach you sober?"

BAZ

I look over Snow’s shoulder to see that he’s highlighted the whole page in his Chemistry book. He looks up at me and bites his lip sheepishly. Crowley, does he know how attractive he is? Maybe I’m actually incredibly stupid and Snow knows how deeply in love I am with him and he’s using his little lip bites and shrugs against me. That’s something he would do. The wanker.

“That kind of defeats the point,” I tell him, shaking my head lightly. 

“But you told me to highlight what I don’t get,” he says, frowning as he looks down at the page. “I don’t _get_  any of it.” He looks back up at me. I try not to sigh as I bite the inside of my cheek to keep me from snapping at him.

This is going to take a lot of effort. This was such a stupid fucking idea. Why did I ever, _ever_ think I could help him? One, Snow doesn’t understand fucking anything and two, it’s incredibly hard to teach him when I keep getting distracted. And the thing is, it’s not like he’s even doing anything incredibly attractive, he just...is incredibly attractive. And it's infuriating.

My eyes keep wandering along the golden skin of his wrists that’s slightly paler than the rest of him; his long fingers that he keeps drumming in his jaw; his Orion belt of moles; the way he furrows his eyebrows; the way his lips slighty separated when he’s concentrating. I bite back a sigh and run a hand through my hair. I am in so much shit. I can’t go two minutes without imagining what it would be like the kiss Snow’s moles or suck on his neck. Huh. Maybe that’s a weird vampire urge. Or maybe it's just a me thing.

“You need to multiply that by three,” I say as I reach over him and score out his scrawl. I still when I realise we’re so close and I hold my breath when he leans over to see what I’m doing. I can feel his warm breath on my neck. Crowley, I wish I could remember what it felt like to be warm.

“Why?” he asks, completely oblivious to the fact that he’s just moved closer to me. I zealously roll my eyes at him. He sees and frowns, elbowing me lightly. I can't tell if he meant to hurt me but didn't really have the heart or if it's a chum thing. I go with the former. That's really the only explanation. We're not chums.

“Because there’s six oxygen molecules,” I say, pointing it out. Snow just groans and leans back in his seat.

“I’m never going to get this,” he sighs. “It’s pointless trying to help me.”

“You’re nearly there,” I say. “Just keep trying.” He looks up, brows arched, and our eyes meet. Both of us horrified by my borderline kind tone. He narrows his eyes at me and scrutinises my face, obviously looking for the trap. My throat bobs and I instantly take my gaze away and look down at his work. “You’ve also got this wrong. And this. And this.”

Snow scowls and sighs exasperatedly, but at least we’re not staring at each other anymore. Crowley, I really can't take the staring.

We sit there for ten more minutes before Snow sighs and shuts his book. "I'm tired," he bluntly says. I uselessly stay rooted on the seat as I watch him gather up his books. He scowls as he looks at his own messy working, and all the crossed out, wrong working. Then he looks at my cursive, neat writing and scowls even more. "I'm gonna go upstairs."

My throat bobs and I shrug, purposely not looking at him. "Whatever," I shrug again, looking down at the table. He hovers for a moment, and I can feel him watching me try my hardest not to watch him. Then when he starts to walk away, I look up, gripping the table. He turns back and sees me watching. I expect a frown or narrowed eyes but his face just goes red then biting his lip with his thinking face on, he turns and walks out. I feel my heart skip, I definitely didn't expect that.

 * 

The next morning, I'm sitting in the dining hall alone. Dev and Niall must not be up yet. A book about mythical beasts that are actually real is open in front of me, but I'm not reading it. I'm staring at Snow. I don't want to admit that I'm staring at him, but let's not lie here, it's what I find myself doing most of the time now.

Snow's sitting next to Agatha, Bunce is across from them, and the two of them are pulling. Bunce is ignoring them as she scribbles furiously something. Maybe she's writing to her boyfriend. I've never been jealous of Penelope Bunce before, but right now, envy is soaring through my veins. I watch as she drops her pen onto the paper and glares at Snow and Agatha until they pull apart. They just started dating, but they're constantly pulling or holding hands or whispering into each other's ears. It's unbearable.

I pull my gaze away and stare down at the untouched plate in front of me. I have no idea if I'm going to make it through this year. I'm going to die at the grand old age of fifteen. Oh well, I've led a fine life, I suppose. I mean, I'm the best academically in our year. I'm football captain. I got a distinction for grade eight violin. I suppose I've achieved as much as I can. 

"Hello Baz," I look up, expecting Niall or Dev. I'm not expecting Bunce to slide onto the bench across from me. I clench my jaw and straighten my back as I arch an eyebrow at her.

"Bunce," I say, tilting my head. "Shouldn't you be busy tending to Snow?" I sneer, because I'm a tosser and because I want her to fuck off. Penelope just frowns and folds her arms. 

"Why are you helping Simon?" she asks, leaning closer. I just grin.

"Why not?" I ask, running my tongue over my teeth. "When you're top of your year, you find school can be awfully tiresome."

"Simon always says you're plotting something, Baz. And for the most part, I tell him you're not," he narrows her eyes. "Because you're just a boy, so I highly doubt the coven would give you a proper task. But right now, I know you're up to something." I don't reply. I just keep smiling as I lean back and let out a small huff of amusement - even if what she's saying is mostly true. "I won't let you hurt Simon," she says, her voice dripping with warning.

"Okay, Bunce," I nod condescendingly. "I won't hurt Snow. But we both know he isn't going to live through this. He won't make it. He's living on borrowed time, Bunce, and it's going to catch up with him soon. Give it three years. I reckon you'll only have to be Snow's sidekick for a couple more years. Then you'll finally be free. When Snow's finally gone. When he's finally dead and buried or burned to ash, we'll all be free. He's going to win, and we both know it. He's going to end these wars. But Snow will die in the process. Possibly by my hand. Preferably, by my hand. We've all always known that I'll kill Snow or Snow will kill me, Bunce. And right now, he's falling Chemistry. So it's pretty clear who'll win when it comes down to it." I shrug as I look back down at the table, sighing exasperatedly. "I accepted along time ago that I'll have to kill Simon. Maybe its time you did too."

I say it because its all true, and we both know it. Maybe we just needed to hear someone say it. Its not till after a few moments of silence that I realise I've called Snow, Simon. 

"You're a spiteful, cruel person, Basilton," Bunce says. I sneer at her. "You're full of hate and I pity you. You're so caught up in your disgusting petty wars that you've let hate corrupt you." She shakes her head lightly as she stands up. "I reckon you could've been a nice person in another life, Basilton," she says, shaking her head as she stares me dead in the eye. "But you're not. You're a dickhead. But you're not invincible, Baz - and there's a lot of people on Simon's side. You won't kill Simon. Just don't try. Because it won't end with him in flames. It'll end with _you_ burning," she adds before she turns and leaves the hall. I look across the room, searching for those bronze curls, but Snow's not here. I groan as I lean my head onto the table and shut my eyes.

 

*

"Are we still on for ten?"

I look over at Snow. He's watching me, a small smile on his face. He's still got that cut on his face, but it's starting to scab now, and I know he's still limping. " _What_?" I ask as I look away from him and turn back to the Hydrogen Peroxide and Catalase on our counter. Is he serious, right now? Did Penelope not tell him that I was literally planning his death about an hour ago?

"You said you would help me," he reminds me as he passes me a measuring cylinder. I take it from him and think as I absently pour water into it. 

"You still want me to help you?" I ask, not looking at him. I don't want him to see the blind hope plastered on my face. 

"I mean, not necessarily _you_ ," he says, and I nearly drop the beaker. "But you're the only one willing to help me. I mean it would help if you were a bit nicer." I turn around and frown as I reach past him for the ruler. "Fine. You don't have to be nice to me. You just have to not shout."

"I didn't shout last night," I roll my eyes as I finally look down at him, his blue eyes staring at me. "Fine, okay, ten." As soon as I say it, Snow grins brightly, he actually looks like he might hug me but the look I shoot him, the look vanishes and is replaced with a smirk. 

"I can't believe I managed to charm Basilton Grimm-Pitch," he smirks. I sigh and shake my head but inside I'm on fucking fire. _Charmed_ is putting it very fucking lightly Simon Snow. I'm about to snort and ask him to pass me the timer when I lock eyes with Bunce. She's partnered with that Keris girl who's always giggling. Bunce is frowning at me and her hand's tightened around her beaker so tightly I think it might smash. I'm about to scowl back at her when a loud bang sounds from behind me. I spin around and widen my eyes when I see Snow standing there, holding a blackened beaker with slightly charred fingers. "What the fuck did you do, you tool?" I shout as Professor Chilblains appears beside me.

" _Language,_ Mr Pitch," Professor Chilblains frowns before she turns to Snow.

"I thought we were using uh... _matches_ for this experiment?" he says. What the fuck? He thought we were using... _matches_? No one mentioned fire at all. Where did he even get the matches? After Professor Chilblains fixes him up and spells the ash from his hair, he turns to me and throws me a wolfish grin. "I really need the help."

 

*

I find Snow already at our table in the library at ten, a pile of books stacked neatly beside him. "Snow," I nod as I slide into the seat beside him. He nods back stiffly as he looks around. "What is it?" I ask, my tone a bit too sharp. 

"There's just...there's a lot of people here," he frowns as he gestures to everyone sitting at the tables around us. 

"I suppose there are. Than you for that observation, Snow," I roll my eyes as I take a book from his pile and open it up. "Okay, so, alloys..." I trail off when I realise he's ignoring me. "Snow!" I hiss and he turns with a jolt, a bright red creeping up on his face. "Shit, sorry, I just...lots of people," he says, dropping his voice to a whisper. I look up and realise that actually, yes, quite a lot of people are watching us. I push my tongue into my cheek as I pull my wand from my back pocket and cast, **_As You Were,_** before I cast,  ** _There's Nothing to See Here._**

"What did you do?" Snow asks when people turn away from our direction.

"Barrier spell but stronger." When he just stares at me blankly I expand. "People can't see or hear us anymore."

"Oh," he says, blinking a couple of times. "Cool."

"I get that you're embarrassed to be seen with me, but I don't really think people care that much, Snow. Maybe you're just not as popular as you think."

"Its not that," he says, furrowing his eyebrows. He sounds offended hat I accused him of that, even if we both know its true. "I don't want people to know..." he trails off as he bites his lip.

"What?" I snort. "That you're shit at Chemistry?" I mean it as a joke, but when he looks away and a deep crimson rises from his neck, a burst of guilt bursts in my gut. "Fuck, sorry, I didn't...I didn't mean it like that."

He looks back at me, eyes widened. He's surprised that I apologised. To be fair, I am too. "It's fine," he shrugs. "I mean, I am. Shit at Chemistry, that is. But that's why you're here, right?"

"Right," I say as I bite my lip. I watch as he leans forward to grab a book and his shirt rides up. Snow isn't muscular, he's actually pretty skinny, but he's really fucking attractive. Oh fuck, I sigh as I realise what I'm doing. This is going to be a long night.

*

Snow's eyes innocently widen when I pull out the two bottles of Firewhiskey from my bag. "What are you doing?" he asks as I uncap it with my teeth (vampire perks). 

"Getting drunk," I shrug as I look over at the clock. It's ten past eleven, and nearly everyone's gone. Somehow, me and Snow haven't killed each other yet. When he frowns at me, I roll my eyes. "You're going to force me to continue to teach you sober?"

"We're fifteen, Baz," Snow says, folding his arms. 

"Thanks for reminding me," I roll my eyes as I take a sip. I laugh as Snow gasps. "You're really telling me you've never drank anything? You, the only one here who's lived in the chavvy Normal world. And you've never even  _drank._ Normals start drinking at like ten, Snow. Crowley, that _is_ hilarious. Best thing I've heard all day." He watches me for a moment, lips drawn in a straight line before he snatches the other bottle and starts drinking. His eyebrows knot and his nose crinkles before he pulls the bottle away from his lips. I laugh when he starts to cough. "That's minging," he says but then he goes back for another sip. 

I shake my head as I gesture for him to pass me his mock test. As I start to mark it, he starts coughing again. "Bloody hell," he giggles. "S'trong," he says, his words already slurring together. I look back down at his paper, praying to Merlin that he can't see me smiling.


	5. The Air is on Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You've read Watership Down?"

BAZ

Somehow, in our drunken state, Snow and I end up on the floor - surrounded by Chemistry papers and books about polymers. Snow may be the Chosen One, and the most popular boy at Watford and really powerful and incredibly good looking, but he's a fucking lightweight. He's lying on his back, eyes shut and a soft smile on his face as he runs his long fingers through his bronze curls. I'm sitting up, legs in a basket and back against the wall. I'm closer to Simon Snow than I ever have been in my life, and it's making my heart thud really fucking hard.

I'm watching Snow but only because he can't see me watching him. And as soon as he opens his mouth to speak, I look down at the almost empty bottle in my hand in case he catches my eye. 'Baz," he says tentatively, opening one eye and peering up at me. "Yes, Snow?" I ask, forcing sardonic tone into my voice. 

"I think I might fail Chemistry, Baz. Like really, really, fail fucking Chemistry. Which is stupid cause like, I have magic and shit," he starts rambling and I only let myself smile because he's shut his eyes again. 

"You're not going to fail Chemistry, Snow," I sigh, downing the last bit of Firewhiskey. He shifts up onto his elbows and arches his eyebrows at me. 

"Words of encouragement?" He grins with mock surprise. "From _you_? How much did you drink, Basilton?" He's saying irritating things, sure, but he's grinning (and hiccuping cause he's wasted) and it's not malicious or hurtful or full of pure hate. He's just smiling. At _me_. 

"You're not going to fail because _I'm_ tutoring you, and I'm incredibly smart and extremely good at Chemistry. So you'll be fine. Maybe not A level fine. Perhaps C level fine." Snow's silent for a moment and I start to worry that maybe I've fucked it but I breathe out when Snow snorts. Then he starts to laugh. No, laugh isn't the right word, Snow's...giggling. He's literally giggling. "I don't even know why I'm laughing," he says between snorts. "You just insulted me." After he says that he stops giggling and sits up, his lips in a thin line. "You insulted me," he repeats, cocking his head and dropping his eyes down to his knees. "You're always insulting me," he murmurs, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "Why do you always try and make me feel like shit?" 

My throat bobs as he looks up and meets my eyes. His blue eyes are narrowed but that's not what's bothering me, it's the fact that they look a bit...sad. And it's making me feel uncomfortable. 

"I...uh...I just-"

"I mean," he interrupts me as he swings his second bottle of Firewhiskey around, the alcohol swishing around. "You're very mean, Baz. Very, very, very mean," he sits up fully and folds his arms. "I don't get it. I mean, I don't get why you hate me so much. I've never done anything to you."

I blink. Then I blink again. Then I just look at him for a moment. I should come up with a witty remark. Or a harsh, blunt jab. But in my stupid, drunken state my stupid, fucking brain won't work. Instead, I just murmur, "I don't hate you. I really don't hate you." What the fuck Baz? Why did I say that. What the actual fuck? "You're vexing, yes. But I don't hate you." I really don't hate you, Simon Snow. I think I'm actually maybe in love with you. No fuck that, I'm definitely in love with you. But I've read enough angsty John Green books to know that we won't happen. No matter how much I'm longing for it.

"No," Snow shakes his head as he shuffles closer to me, which makes me freeze up a little bit. "No. No. No. I really, really think you hate me Basilton," he says, slurring his words as he drags all the syllables in every word he says. "Like _despise_ me. And not like how you despise anyone who doesn't shop in Waitrose and doesn't eat duck and doesn't have a hunting lodge in Kent." I roll my eyes at that and try and ignore the fact that he's now leaning against the wall very close to me, staring up at me and breathing on me. "I think you would kill me. I think you _might_ kill me," he says, looking up at me. "I mean, I'm not very good at magic. You could probably off me pretty quickly."

"I wouldn't kill you," I breathe, looking down at him, and praying to Merlin that my voice isn't wavering. This is such a weird fucking conversation. I've imagined my first heart to heart conversation with Snow in my head lots of times, but I never imagined it would consist of me trying to persuade him that I wouldn't murder him if given the option. Snow makes a sort of huffing sound and rolls his eyes as he peers up at me. I chew the inside of my cheek as I realise that he's leaning on me. 

"Okay," he says.

"Don't say it like that," I frown, furrowing my eyebrows.

"Like what?" he asks innocently. 

"Like you don't believe me," I frown, folding my arms.

"I don't," Snow shrugs before he tips to the side and falls back down onto his back. "I really, really don't." I really, really wish he would.

 

*

"Do you believe in God?" Snow asks suddenly. We're both lying on the ground, very close and I can hear him breathing. It's been a couple of minutes since we last talked and his voice almost scares me. I open my eyes before I answer.

"No," I say. "I don't think so. I believe in science and facts and evolution," I breathe, running a hand through my hair. "I believe that we get to decide what we do." As I'm saying it, I doubt myself. I'm not really in control of my own life am I. I apparently have to kill Snow, which I don't want to do. I don't want to be in this war, but again, I don't really have a choice. I trail off halfway through my sentence but Snow doesn't seem to mind, he just starts talking.

"What about destiny? Fate? The things that are supposedly supposed to happen? The things that are meant to happen and you don't have a choice in the matter."

"I don't know..." I admit, turning my face to look at him. My throat bobs when I meet his blue eyes. He was looking at me too. I can barely see him in the dark but he's definitely looking at me.

"It's interesting," he says and I shrug. 

"Imagine there's something about yourself that you hate. I don't know, like a trait or something," I add in a feeble attempt to steer away from the 'vampire route'. "And you try as hard as you can to change or get rid of it to make things better for yourself and the people that you love. Would you be trying of nothing? Because that horrible thing is 'destiny' or 'fate' and you have no choice. you can't help it or change it. You would just have to live with it..." I trail off, throat bobbing as I look away from Snow and up at the ceiling. All the lights are off, and if we get caught, we're fucked. It must be around half eleven but neither of us are making any moves to leave. 

"That's dark," Snow whistles. "Like end of Watership Down dark."

"You've read Watership Down?" I ask, trying to contain my surprise.

"I've _seen_ Watership Down," he clarifies, and I can feel his gaze on me. 

"You know it's a book, right?" He doesn't reply. I tilt my head and give into myself and look at him. "Have you ever read a book before, Snow?" I ask, hating that I'm grinning. Snow doesn't answer but instead snorts before he throws a pretty heavy book at my head. But the thing is, I don't think he really meant to hurt me. 


	6. You Got no One to Hold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm just really good at kissing."

BAZ

"What's the time?" Snow asks me, his words slurring as he rolls his neck. I arch an eyebrow at him (I've never met anyone that can't handle their drink like Snow) but check my watch anyway. _Fuck_.

"Quarter to one," I say through gritted teeth as I look at him. He's sitting up, legs tucked against his chest and his heads balanced on his knees. After I answer him he looks up at me from under his eyelashes (eyelashes longer than should be allowed for anyone) and tilts his head. 

"We should probably go up," I say at the same time he asks, should we just stay here? We both stare at each other for a moment before Snow stands up and starts piling up the books around us. He yawns as he tries to pick up the books in his arms but before he can drop them everywhere, I'm up and taking half of them into my own arms. My fingers brush his arm as I transfer them into my own hands and even though Snow doesn't notice, it's enough to make my heart pick up. 

As we place the books back onto their correct shelves Snow says something - but he says it so quietly I can't hear. "What?" I ask, turning to look at him. He's frowning and he's looking down at his feet. "I didn't hear what you said, Snow," I add when he looks up at me blankly.

"I don't think Agatha really likes me," he murmurs. My throat bobs as he takes a step closer to me and leans against the shelves, head tipped up to the ceiling. "I asked her out and...and she said yes. But I think she's only going out with me cause she thinks she has to." He groans as he slides down the shelf and sits on the ground, legs spread right out in front of him. Crowley, he really is drunk. Because there's no way he'd be saying any of this if he wasn't.

"I highly doubt that, Snow," I say as I finish placing the books back on the shelves. "I find it hard to believe that Wellbelove feels some sort of responsibility towards you."

"No," he sighs. "She does. I think everyone around me does. Apart from Penelope." He pushes his tongue into his cheek. "And you," he adds, looking up at me with his big, sad, doe eyes. "You don't feel anything towards me. Apart from cold indifference maybe." 

I think I might be shaking slightly as I rake my fingers my hair. "Agatha likes you," I say, changing the subject as I sit down next to him. He yawns again, stretching his arms out. "If she didn't she wouldn't be pulling you _constantly_." Even I hear the slight twinge of envy in my tone. "Nah," he says. "I'm just really good at kissing." I hold my breath and let him carry on. He's a _good kisser._ Well _, self proclaimed. But still._  "It's cause everyone knows that I could die at like...any point."

"Dead man walking," I murmur, meeting his eyes. He nods sadly before he scratches the back of his neck and yawns, again. His eyes keep shutting as he slumps down. 

"Dead man failing Chemistry," he sighs. I laugh and even though his eyes are closed, he smiles. "Does alcohol make you tired, Baz? Cause I'm pretty tired."

"Can do," I reply, freezing when he leans his head on my shoulder. What the fuck is happening? "We can go to our room if you're tired. I'm sure your bed is a lot more comfortable than my shoulder." He shakes his head, still leaning on me and Merlin, I really don't think I'm breathing. "No, I like 'ere," he murmurs before he shuts his mouth. I'm about to move and try and persuade a drunk Simon Snow to go to bed, but he's already asleep. Well. Fuck.

 

*

 

"Where were you at breakfast?" Dev asks as he passes me the ball. We're at football practise and since it's a Saturday, people are allowed to watch. I glance over at the stands and gulp when I see Snow and Agatha in the furthest away one. And you'd never guess what they're doing. "You'd think their tongues would be numb by now," I snap, rolling my eyes as Dev and I run towards the goal. I shoot and, of course, I score. The large group of girls that've congregated on the stand closest to us stand up and cheer but the two people towards the back don't even notice. 

"You didn't answer my question," Dev says as we walk towards the bench as Coach Mac beckons us off and sends on Elizabeth and William. 

"What question?" I ask innocently as I sit on the bench and start untying my boots. 

"You weren't at breakfast," he repeats, eyebrow arched. No, I wasn't at breakfast, because I was asleep in the library with Simon Snow. We only woke up when a year eight walked too close to us and touched the bubble we were in, making my magic jump, causing me to wake up. Snow fell to the floor, since he'd been leaning on me and when he stood up he seemed rather confused. "My head hurts," he breathed, rubbing his temples. I nodded and gestured to the bottles of Firewhiskey. I almost laughed when his eyes widened before I realised that he was _horrified_. Then my heart sunk.

"I should..." he trailed off as he lowered his brows. I was stood frozen, my back stiff. The tension was suffocating. "I'm gonna go. Thanks for...for helping me." He stood there for a moment, as if he was expecting me to say something, but when I just shrugged and lightly shook my head, he walked off, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh yeah. Overslept," I shrug. Dev rolls his eyes as he sits next to me and chugs his water. 

"Why the fuck is it so warm?" he asks, rolling back his shoulders. "It's fucking September." I nod in agreement. It is fucking boiling. I pull my strip off and thank Dev as he passes me my water. He starts untying his own boots and while he's preoccupied, I glance over at Snow and to my surprise I see that he's looking back at me. I grin when he blushes and looks away, awkwardly scratching his neck. Even when he starts talking to Agatha again, he keeps glancing back at me. 

I turn back to Dev and go to ask him what he wants to do now, but when the crowd of year four start giggling and staring at me, insecurity and awkwardness overcomes me and I quickly pull on my jumper. Dev grins as he watches me blush and frown at the girls. "I can't believe, out of me and you, they like _you_ ," he shakes his head. "What a waste," he whistles. 

"Shut up," I roll my eyes as we start to walk towards the gates.

"I thought that once you came out all the girls would start liking me," he sighs, winking at the girls as we walk past. I snort when they all start to giggle and bat their eyelashes. 

"One, they don't know I'm gay, and, two, I don't think _me_ being gay's gonna get _you_ any more girls, Dev."

"Sure it will," he says, smirking. "It means there's less competition." I shake my head softly before we see Niall appear at the gates. He's leaning against the stone wall and talking to Keris. His face is almost as red as his hair. "What the _fuck_?" Dev asks. "Niall's getting more pussy than me," he exclaims, eyes wide. "This is un-fucking-belivable."

"Keris is also gay," I inform him before we reach our friend that's trying to flirt with Keris. "But I don't know if Niall knows that," I whisper as we watch Keris laugh at seething Niall said, in turn causing Niall to blush furiously. 

*

 

"We could go into town," Dev volunteers. Niall snorts. We're sitting in the dining hall and trying to decide what to do for the rest of the day. I don't really care, if I'm being honest. I keep slathering more and more butter onto my toast, even though I know I'm not going to eat it. I never eat in front of anyone. I'm mainly doing it to try and distract myself from Snow. He's sitting beside Bunce, and they're both looking at her phone, but Snow doesn't really seem interested. He keeps picking at the sleeves of his jumper. It's too big for him and it's hanging off of his shoulders. I blink as I find myself gazing at his collarbone.

"Baz!" I turn and look back at Dev and Niall, and I guess, according to the latter's face, it's not the first time they've called my name. "What do you think?"

"About?" I ask, arching my eyebrow.

"Going into town," Dev says, running his fingers over his twists of black hair. 

"I don't really care," I shrug.

" _See_ ," Niall emphasises, leaning forward on the bench we're sitting on. Dev rolls his dark eyes. "No one wants to go into town. All that's there is charity shops and a Aldi."

"Don't be such a tory," Dev smirks. Niall growls when I laugh. "There's nothing wrong with Aldi. Just cause you shop at Waitrose, posh twat."

"Baz shops at Waitrose too," Niall protests, folding his arms. "He shops at fucking _Whole Foods!_ That's gotta be more tory than Waitrose." I tune them both out as they start bickering about food shops and political parties and let myself watch Snow, but Snow isn't sitting at his spot anymore. I sigh and turn back to my friends when I realise that they're not talking anymore. Niall is scowling and Dev looks surprised. "What?" I ask, arching an eyebrow. Dev just smirks as he gestures with his head to something behind me. 

I gulp when I meet eyes with Simon Snow. Bunce is standing next to him, eyes narrowed and arms folded. She looks pretty pissed off. "Yes?" I ask, leaning forward, a small smirk on my face. "Can I _help_ you, Snow?" I arch an eyebrow when he doesn't speak. 

He bites his lip as he holds out a jumper. I cock my head and look back up at him, he still doesn't say anything. Niall snorts from beside me but hisses when I kick him under the table - pretty hard. "You left your jumper in the library last night," Snow finally explains before I take the red jumper from his hands. I'm expecting him to leave now, because honestly, no matter how much I want to kiss him, this situation is rather awkward. "I went back in after we left because I'd left my chemistry book in there." Great, he's rambling now. I don't even think he's breathing. "Someone was sitting at our table so I went up and asked if they'd seen my book and they had and then they asked if this was my jumper and I said no and I was about to leave when I realised, hey, maybe it's yours and it is and now you have it..." he trails off and does this awkward giggle thing as he fiddles with the cross he always wears around his neck and I swear, it might be the cutest fucking thing I've ever seen.

"Well," Bunce says, rolling her eyes as she tugs on Snow's sleeve. "You have your jumper back now, so we're going to go." Snow nods but doesn't move. He just stands there looking at me and he only moves when Wellbelove turns up with her beautiful fucking face and beautiful hair. "Hello," she says to Snow before she kisses him on the cheek. He doesn't say anything, just stands there awkwardly, looking at his crappy Adidas trainers. "Hello Basilton," she smiles sweetly at me. I want to punch her.

"Wellbelove," I nod. There's a moment of silence before Penelope sighs and walks off, dragging Snow behind her. Wellbelove wishes the three of us a nice day before she follows Snow and Bunce, her long white hair flowing even though there's no wind. Maybe she's spelled it to do that.

"What?" I hiss when I turn back to see Dev and Niall staring at me, eyes wide and eyebrows arched. 

"You _overslept_?" Dev asks, a slight smirk on his lips.

"I did," I shrug, scraping my plate with my knife.

"In the library," Niall adds, snorting.

"With Simon Snow," Dev finishes, folding his arms.

"We were studying and lost track of time," I say as I stand up and grab the jumper. 

"They were _studying_ , Dev," Niall giggles.

"Were they Niall? _Studying_?"

"Fuck you guys. Tossers," I roll my eyes as I start towards my room, clenching the jumper tight in my hands.

"Where are you going?" Dev calls after me. "We're going into town!" I just throw up the middle finger before I leave the hall, my face red and heart thudding.


	7. The Devil you Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "That's not very encouraging, Baz,"

BAZ

Three months of me tutoring Snow every night pass. Three months of us not wanting to kill each other. Three months of me falling harder than ever. 

"The mock is _tomorrow_ , Baz," Snow says as he passes me the Sodium Chloride. 

"So?" I shrug as I grab the aluminium. 

"So, I'm going to fail," he sighs. I roll my eyes. If he says he's going to fail one more time I'll kill him myself.

"Well, it's a mock, so if you fail it's not that big of a deal," I answer truthfully as I scrawl down our aim for the experiment. When Snow doesn't answer, I look up to see him frowning. His shoulders are tense, his jaw is clenched and his teeth are gritted. Even stressed out of his fucking mind, Snow's fucking fit. His bronze curls are sticking up since they're trapped in the safety goggles and he keeps pulling at them. The cut on his face has almost healed and is now a long thin silvery strain on his cheek. His blazer's on his chair and his jumper's already stained from the Iodine. I keep reminding myself to not stare, but it's really fucking hard. Snow in a jumper makes him ten times more beautiful. 

"That's not very encouraging, Baz," he pouts. I smile softly. It's still weird to me, smiling at Snow. Even if we're, I don't know... _good_ now? Mates? No, maybe mates is pushing it. I still critique him constantly, and he still calls me a prick on a daily basis. But...something's changed between us. I know that much.

"You're not going to fail," I say and he opens his mouth to say something when Professor Chilblains comes up behind us. 

"This is not a gossip session boys," she asserts, narrowing her eyes at us. "Hurry up and finish the experiment. And Simon," she adds, looking up at Snow, her face suddenly soft and kind. All the teachers are being nice to Snow today since he went off yesterday.

It was insane. It was lunch and I was sitting with Dev and Niall when Bunce appeared at my table asking if I'd seen Snow because she hadn't seen him since break and she was worried and then...bam. Everything was so quiet for a solid two minutes, everyone frozen for the same reason. It felt like my magic had frozen in my veins, in my blood. Then it went back to normal. We all knew what was happening. Bunce stared at me for a moment before screams came from outside the hall. Then she took off towards the shouts for help and the burning smell, throwing a glance at me over her shoulder, as if she expected me to follow her. I didn't. I couldn't bring myself to.

But from what I heard, Snow literally set himself on fire.

He still hasn't told me why he went off.

"Yes, Miss?" Snow asks, tilting his head.

"Get off of my workbench, now," she shakes her head before she walks towards Rhys and William, who seem to have blown something up. Snow groans as he jumps off of the counter and instead stands next to me, leaning on the counter. He's standing very close to me. "Baz," he says softly, looking up at me.

"Yes?" I ask, a smile on my face as he pushes his tongue into his cheek.

"I wanted to say thanks." I freeze, beaker clenched in my hand, and watch him. "For helping me. I really mean it. I know I keep saying I'm going to fail. But I think I've finally reach C level, thanks to you." I just nod, because I don't think if I try and speak, my mouth will work. "I used to think you were a dickhead, and you still kinda are," he says, cocking his head. "But I know now that you're not evil. At least not completely evil. And I...I wouldn't kill you," he says, scratching the back of his neck. "Hypothetically," he adds. 

"Look, Snow," I say as he drops the Hydrochloric acid into the sink. He swears colourfully as he cleans it up and looks up at me. 

"Yeah?" he asks, throwing the paper towels into the bin.

"I don't know if I'm going to be able to make tonight. I promised Dev and Niall last week that I'd play football with them and-" I'm a hundred percent lying right now. I'm not playing football with Dev and Niall but in actual fact am going to go down to the Catacombs and drink a shit ton of rats' blood. Yeah, I know, not exactly romantic but I've not drank anything for three days now and I think I might be dying. 

"It's fine," he cuts me off, smiling softly. "Really, it's fine," he adds when he sees me frowning. "I'm sure I can study by myself for one night." I'm about to say something, even though I don't know what to say, maybe I should apologise, when Professor Chilblains starts talking to the whole class. "Now, I need to go find two year threes as it looks like they may have cheated on a test so I need you all the act like the fifteen year olds you are and not five year olds. When I get back I want everyone to have finished their experiment and be sitting at their desks. Thank you," she says before she leaves, her heels the only sound for a moment. 

Everyone is silent before William sneaks over to the door and pokes his head out before he announces to the class, "She's gone, the coast's clear." As soon as he says that, the class erupts into conversation and everyone leaves their stations to talk with their friends on the other side of the class, apart from me and Snow. We stay where we are, looking sheepishly at each other. "You know what," I say, I guess I could go another day without drinking. "It's fine, I'll tell them we have our exam tomorrow and-"

Snow shakes his head. "No, really it's chill." He looks like he wants to say more but suddenly Bunce is at his side. "Hello," she says, looking from me to Snow, eyes wide. Snow nods before he tells us that he needs to talk to Rhys about Greek. His blue eyes flit back up at me again before he walks off towards Rhys, hands shoved in his pockets and head hanging. 

"So," Bunce starts, twirling her dark brown hair around her finger. "Are you ready for the exam tomorrow?" I look at her for a moment before I turn back to me and Snow 's experiment. 

"Yep," I say curtly. I'm not really in the mood for a conversation with Bunce about our chemistry exam. 

"I have a bad feeling," she says suddenly. 

"About the exam?" I ask sardonically, even though I know that's not what she's talking about. I can tell by her tone that it's something else. Something big. Here's the thing though, I don't really care.

"I woke up this morning at two forty-three," she says, stepping beside me so I'm forced to look at her. I jut shrug and cast my face into boredom. "And the air felt stiff and I couldn't really breathe." I frown as I look down at her, only because she looks so worried and sad. And also because I know what she's thinking. "It might not be the Humdrum. You might just have had a panic attack," I shrug. "Cause of exams and stuff maybe." I used to get panic attacks and I still do sometimes. But I know how to deal with them now.

"No," Bunce shakes her head. "I think something's about to happen," she pauses as she looks towards Snow. I follow her glance and watch as he laughs with Rhys. When Snow laughs, he doesn't just chuckle, he throws his head back and roars, his face all lighting up. "Something worse than failing a Chemistry mock."

 

*

I manage to sneak off to the catacombs before Snow turns up at our room. I sit against the cold wall after I've finished and I've kicked the dead rats to the back of the room. I do admittedly feel better but I also feel gross. I feel inhumane. 

I rest my head against the wall as I let my legs drop to the ground. My trousers are all manky now and my shirt's fucked. I try and pick off the dirt from my sleeve as I wallow in my angsty teenage vampire feelings. Maybe I could just kill Snow and in turn kill of my feelings for him. Or I could kill Wellbelove. Or I could just kill myself, even if I am already dead. At least then I wouldn't have to do my exams. I stand up and am about to get out of here when my stomach clenches. I still when a rat scurries across from me before I decide fuck it and stand on it, ignoring the whimpering sound it makes before I drop down and start to drink. If only being a vampire was really like those shitty Twilight movies. 

As I'm hunched over the rat and considering all the events that have led to this, something starts hissing. I stand up, dropping the rat which falls with a soft thud, and turn around, coming face to face with a beautiful woman. She has red hair that falls to her thighs and skin almost as pale as mine. She's beautiful. Her features are sharp and her slender figure is cloaked in an almost transparent green cloak. When I meet her eyes my throat bobs. They're a dark red. The colour of dried blood. I freeze as she takes a step towards me. "Oh Tyrannus," she smiles, revealing sharp teeth hidden under her plump red lips. I instantly know what she is. _Baobhan Sith._ A Scottish vampiric fairie. I wonder why she's travelled all this way.

"Don't you get tired of feeding on rats?" She asks as she walks until she's right in front of me.

"Not really," I shrug, clenching my jaw. I growl as she reaches up and wipes the blood from my chin and lips away with her thumb.

"Mhh," she sighs as she blinks at the blood dripping from her finger. "Interesting," she murmurs before she licks it from her finger and crinkles her nose. "I wonder if you'll taste as disgusting," she smirks as her red eyes flit up to me before she snarls and is instantly swiping at me with her long nails. I duck and pull my wand from my trouser pocket and start to cast before she knocks it from my hand. She's ten times faster than me, I realise as I hiss and move away from those deadly fangs. She swipes at my chest and I yelp in pain when she scratches at my torso, I look down and swear when I see small drops of red seep through my shirt. Her eyes flash and she smirks a cruel, inhumane, feral grin. 

I stumble back and end up on the floor, the Baobhan Sith above me, claws and fangs at the ready when a shout comes from behind her. She turns gracefully but shouts in frustration when she sees Simon Snow running at her, his sword in his hands. She growls and braces herself to attack, but somehow, Snow manages to get around her quickly and plunges his sword into her stomach. She falls to the ground with a bark and snarls when Snow crouches down beside her. "Who sent you here?" he asks. She doesn't reply. "Was it the Humdrum?" he questions, his voice wavering. But he never gets an answer as we watch theBaobhan Sith take her final breath. 

"Fuck," Snow says as he stumbles backwards after he pulls his sword out from her corpse. 

"Fuck indeed Snow," I manage to get out before everything goes dark.


	8. Come Find Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I don't want you to die either, Simon."

BAZ

I wake up in my bed in our room. I open my eyes and furrow my eyebrows when I see Bunce and Snow sitting on his bed. Bunce isn't in her uniform anymore, but Snow's still wearing his grey trousers and his red jumper. The corner of his collar is crinkled and his hair looks a mess. And he's picking at the long thin cut that's still on his cheek. Bunce is sitting on his bed, leaning forward as Snow paces up and down the room. "We should tell the Mage."

"Stop picking at your cut. It's going to scar," Bunce shakes her head as she flicks through the book laying on her lap.

"Scars are cool," Snow shrugs as he murmurs, raking his long fingers through his bronze waves. Fuck those fingers. "The Mage isn't here," he starts. "So I could try and send a letter if I find out where he is maybe-"

"We're not telling the Mage," Bunce interrupts him in a deadpan tone.

"But a vampire _attacked_ Baz!" Snow says, waving his hands around. "A weird, fucking model vampire with super-long, red hair tried to kill him." There's a pause as Snow spins on his heels and Bunce watches him with a slightly amused look on her face. "We're telling the Mage, Penny."

"Why is that your answer for everything?" I ask, my voice hoarse as I try and push myself up but my arms buckle and I fall back down. "Fuck," I hiss as I run my cold hand down my face. I arch an eyebrow when Snow stops pacing and stares at me. "Are you hurt?" he asks quickly, arching an eyebrow as he watches me warily.

"I'm fine," I get through gritted teeth as I lean against the headboard slightly. When I look up, Bunce and Snow are sharing a look. "What?" I ask, rolling my eyes. These two are a different kind of annoying. 

"What was it then?" Bunce asks, staring right at me. 

"What was _what_ , _Bunce_?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at her. If I'm being honest, I really want her to fuck off. 

"The thing that attacked you. The vampire," Snow cuts in before Bunce can answer. His blue eyes are electric and his knee is jolting. I can't tell if he's scared, nervous or excited. I can't ever tell what Snow is thinking.

"It wasn't a vampire," I shrug as I push myself out of my bed. I really need shower. I feel dirty, like there's something on me that won't shake. "It was a Baobhan Sith. Scottish _vampiric_ faire. But technically not a vampire." Two years ago, when the realisation that I wasn't actually alive anymore hit me, I did a lot of research on vampires. TheBaobhan Siths always popped up. Beautiful, elegant women who have enchanted men for centuries. Too bad for the one yesterday that I'm already in love. With a boy.

"The Humdrum sent it," Snow says quickly. "So we should tell the Mage." I roll my eyes and almost smile when I see Bunce doing the same thing. 

"And what's the Mage going to do, Snow?" I ask. "What has he ever done? Apart from piss about with that noncey moustache?" Bunce laughs and I almost smile when I remember that I don't really like Bunce and three months ago she called me a spiteful dickhead.

"The Mage isn't a nonce," Snow frowns at us both before he drops back onto his bed next to Bunce.

"Okay, Snow. Whatever you say. Just a guy with a creepy moustache who wears tights in a school." I shake my head before I rub my temples, I've got a headache and Snow banging on about the Mage isn't helping. "Anyway we don't even know if she was here of the Humdrum's accord." 

"Why else would a Scottish vampiric faerie come to kill a fifteen-year-old boy?" Bunce asks, tilting her head at me. I don't even bother telling her that I'm sixteen now, and have been for a while. (Me and Dev are two of the oldest in our year). I think maybe all the vampires, in England at least, want me dead. I don't think they like having a vampire who is also a mage out there. But instead of saying that I just scratch the back of my neck and say, "I don't know." I really hope that this incident doesn't make Snow think I'm a vampire more. I don't think I can deal with that.

"We should still tell the Mage," Snow says, folding his arms. I swear if he says 'The Mage' one more time I might break the Anathema and kill him. "So he can update the wards. Even if the Humdrum didn't send her, she still got in." Bunce cocks her head before she nods."That's actually...a _valid_ point, Simon," she says, surprise hidden in her voice. Snow grins, as if that's a compliment. I guess for him it might be. I feel like Bunce comes up with most of their schemes.

"It doesn't matter." I shake my head. "This school hasn't been safe since that dickhead took over," I say before I slip into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me.

 

*

 

When I come back into the room after spending half an hour to scrape the invisible blood and dirt off of my body, Bunce is gone and Snow's sitting on his bed, Chemistry papers surrounding him. As soon as I open the door and emerge from the bathroom in my pyjama trousers and damp hair, Snow's head snaps up towards me and our eyes meet. He breaks contact first and instead looks down at my bare chest, frowning when he sees the cuts on my chest. Then he blushes and looks away, his throat bobbing. "What are you doing?" I ask, only to make conversation an break the still air.

"Studying," he murmurs as he turns the page over and swears under his breath before he violently scribbles out something. Fuck. The exam's _tomorrow_. 

"Do you want some help?" I ask tentatively, guilt from cancelling tonight's studying suddenly in my gut. He looks up at me and I'm surprised to see anger on his face. 

"I'm not stupid, okay? I'm not a _complete_ idiot. Just because I don't understand what fucking alkanoic acids are doesn't give you the right to look down at me. You and your fucking friends have some sort of superiority complex because you're all rich and have stupid fucking names like _Basilton_ Grimm-Pitch and Devin _Addington_ and Niall Ridgewell-Cholmondeley!" he exclaims. "I'm not fucking _stupid_ ," he scowls before he looks back down at his books.

Well.

I never thought about my name being overly posh. Or Dev's. I guess Niall's kind of is. He _is_ a posh twat though. 

"I don't think you're stupid," I answer honestly as I sit on my own bed and start looking through my phone. I've got a couple of missed texts from Dev and a text from Father (which I ignore because I'm not in the mood. A Scottish faerie just tried to kill me, I'm tried and Snow just shouted at me. As I bring my knees to my chest I realise that maybe that shouldn't be the thing weighing on my mind right now. But it is. I think Snow might always be on my mind.)

"Yes you do. You think I'm going to fail Chemistry." I look up to see Snow leaning forward on his bed. He's still not changed out of his uniform (which is fine in my eyes, because for some reason, boys wearing jumpers are already fifty percent more attractive than boys not wearing a jumper) and his hair is a fucking mess. "No, I don't, actually. I think you'll do pretty well. But apparently I'm just a posh twat with a superiority complex," I add, smirking slightly.

"Sorry," Snow mumbles as he pushes his tongue into his cheek.  A blush of red creeps up his neck as he looks back down at his books. There's a pause before he adds with a grin, "I mean you are though. You are a twat. You're posh. And you have a superiority complex." I snort before I look back down at my phone and text Dev that no I won't be at football tomorrow since I have an exam. He just replies with fuck you. Even though I'm the one with the exam, he just has to go to football on his own. Dick.

"If you're just going to sit on your phone until we go to bed," Snow starts, and I arch an eyebrow as I look up and meet his blue eyes. Fuck, those _eyes_. "You might aswell help me, I guess." And fuck me, if those eyes aren't the reason I say yes.

 

*

 

"What's with the cut?" I ask impulsively. I've been staring at the damn thing for half an hour as Snow bites the bottom of his pencil and I swear it's taunting me. Snow was right about one thing; it does add to his attractiveness in a weird way. "Hmm?" Snow murmurs as he starts sketching a graph. "This?" he questions as his tan fingers trace the cut.

"Yeah. _That_. You've had it for three months. Since the first day back. When you slammed the door open, looking like a tramp with your torn jumper and that damn sword." I gesture to the sword that he keeps kicked under his bed (which I personally don't think is that safe) with my head.

"You remember all that?" Snow asks me, turning his head to look at me with his eyebrow raised. I just shrug and Snow mistakes this for indifference when really it's me trying not to say, _yes I remember and I remember every fucking day with you because of your blue fucking eyes._ "We were getting the train together, me and Penny, because she didn't want me to get it alone, and when we were like an hour away, some flying fuckers, that were invisible, turned up and started scratching at us. Scratching us everywhere. _Literally_. And they weren't just light scratches they were deep fucking cuts. We managed to get off and just got a cab the rest of the way. But the Humdrum definitely sent them. _Sylphs_ or something. Penny figured out what they were."

"Oh," I nod, not really sure what to say. Because I never really know what to say to Snow. So instead of speaking, I just point to the book and ask him if he knows how to do the next question. Which he does, surprising himself. But I know he can do this. He doesn't give himself enough credit.

After another twenty minutes of going through homologous series, Snow suddenly shuts his book. I furrow my eyebrows as he turns to look at me, golden freckles and dimples glaring. "I though you were going to die, Baz," he says suddenly. That takes me aback a bit. 

"Um... _okay_ ," I shrug, leaning back against the wall. "I mean we all die at some point. Cutting the middle man out, I guess." He frowns and shakes his head.

"Don't make jokes like that," he tells me. I wasn't really joking. "I'm trying to be serious," he adds when I roll my eyes, giving me a pointed look.

"Okay," I say again, biting my lip.

"I thought you were going to die and I...I felt scared and at first I thought it was because the Humdrum had sent that vampire thing but then I realised I was scared because I didn't want _you_ to die." I don't think I'm breathing. (I don't think he is either. He needs to learn to breathe in-between words)

"Do you get what I'm saying?" he asks. I just shake my head.

"Not really," I say, scratching my jaw. His face falls for a moment, but it's so quick that I think I might have imagined it.

"Cause we're mates now right?" _Mates? As in friends?_

"We _are_?" I ask, trying and failing to hide the shock in my tone.

"I mean, I'm pretty sure we are. At least, I don't want you to die." He looks back down at the closed book on his lap, tracing his fingers down the spine.

Here's the thing, I'm not just in _love_ with Simon Snow. I'm pretty sure I'm only on this world because of Simon Snow. _For_ Simon Snow. And he's all I can ever think about. Like in Chemistry class when I watch him write, his long fingers clenching the pencil, the pale pads of his right hand fingers tapping the table. When he's obviously not listening in class and instead blows the long bit of his hair out of his face as he holds his head in his hands. When he bites that stupid fucking cross during breaks. In Greek when I watch the back of his head instead of listening to the Minotaur, and imagine running my hands through those damn curls. Those fucking curls. And those blue eyes that aren't even that blue, but that are so ordinarily _extraordinary_ anyway. And all the freckles and moles that I'd give my left leg to kiss. 

But Simon Snow is in love with someone else. A girl. A pretty, posh, alive girl that rides horses and wears pink dresses to the balls her parents' hold. But I can be selfish in my mind. In my mind, I can imagine kissing him and holding him and him not loving her. And I can settle for a reality where we're mates. I can deal with that. So, I smile at Snow's freckles and eyes and pads of his fingers and his chiseled jaw and lean chest and skinny legs and long arms and golden skin, before I reply.

"I don't want you to die either, Simon."

 

*

 

"I think I failed Political Science," Niall says as we walk across the courtyard. He's cracking his knuckles and it's infuriating. But I'm not going to tell him to stop, because he only cracks his knuckles when he's stressed. So I'll let it slide.

"I'm sure you did fine," I say, even though I'm not really listening to the conversation, I'm just recalling how Snow laughed when we watched The Inbetweeners on my laptop last night. 

"Let's be real here lads," Dev says, grinning at the two of us. "Niall has _definitely_ failed Political Science."

"Fuck off," Niall snarls as he pushes Dev, causing him to trip slightly before he snorts and goes to push Niall back, ruffling his red hair. They're laughing as they play fight but honestly, if they were having a real scrap, _that_ would be less embarrassing.

"Gentlemen," I sigh. "There are ladies present." And as soon as I say that, the two of them instantly stop and stand up straight, fixing their uniforms and hair. They smile sheepishly at the crowd of girls watching us from the benches. "God. Fucking twats," I roll my eyes as they both elbow me. 

"When's your Chemistry exam, then?" Dev asks, even if he's not looking at me and instead staring at the girls. It's only then do I realise that Wellbelove and Bunce are in the middle of the group and the former looks a lot happier about it than the latter. "In about an hour," I answer, looking away from Wellbelove with her plaited locks and red lips.

"Good luck mate," Niall says, slapping my back before I shrug him off. 

"It's not about _luck_ ," I answer back and I'm about to tell him not to slap my back again when Snow walks across from us towards the girls. I instantly stop listening to Dev and Niall's boring conversation in favour of watching Snow walk. He has nice legs. I watch as Snow reaches the group of girls and awkwardly smiles when they all start talking to him at once, swishing their long hair and batting their eyelashes. I keep watching as me, Dev and Niall keep walking away. I push my tongue into my cheek as I watch him walk up to Bunce, either oblivious to the fact that his girlfriend is right there or ignoring her. I watch as Agatha frowns for a second before she realises she just frowned and instantly the blinding smile is back. 

I'm pulled back when Dev leans in towards me and asks, "Whatcha looking at, Baz?" 

"Nothing," I answer too quickly as I push him away from me. "Nothing, I was just-"

" _Ohhh_ ," Dev interrupts me, dragging out the word before he gestures to Snow and Bunce (who are now walking away from the group together, leaving Agatha behind) with his head to Niall.

" _Oh_ ," Niall repeats, a grin slithering onto his face.

"What?" I hiss, scowling.

"You were watching Snow," Dev sighs dramatically, slinging his hands into his front pockets as he smirks at me. "He was watching Snow, Niall."

" _Again_ ," Niall adds as he laughs, the dimples in his pale cheeks showing. "He was watching Snow again, Dev."

"Fuck off. No, I wasn't," I say but even I don't believe it.

"Okay, Baz. Whatever you say." Dev smirks, elbowing Niall lightly before he whispers loud enough for me to hear, "Someone's got a crush on The Chosen One."

We walk in silence for a minute, me scowling and arms folded while Dev and Niall giggle like fucking idiots. "If you start dating Snow, will we have to call him _Simon_?" Niall snickers as he runs a hand through his hair. Well, I'm glad they're finding this entertaining.

"If you start finally talking to girls without getting a boner, do we still have to call you a virgin, Niall?" I hiss. Dev giggles before I leave them behind and stride towards the Chemistry lab.

"Fuck you Baz!" Niall calls after me. "Actually, I've got someone else you can fuck! I'm sure Watford's golden boy will be up for it!" I just throw him up the middle finger as I walk away, leaving the two of them snickering and laughing behind me. _Tools_. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so long lads, but since today's basically the last day of the Christmas hols, I had some time x


	9. I Don't Know What You’re Looking For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Everything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very long and pretty shite so sorry in advance x

BAZ

I think Snow might be avoiding me.

And I also think that it might be killing me.

But then I just ask myself why I ever thought this would work. Mates? Me and Snow? No. No, I was foolish to think he didn't want me dead. It's probably Snow just trying to get information out of me for the Mage. I'm such a fucking idiot. But I'm a _hopeless_ fucking idiot.

We were sat on opposite ends of the exam hall during Chemistry but I finished with twenty minutes to spare. So I used that spare twenty minutes to stare at Snow. I'm not proud of it, I probably should've checked over my answers (to be fair, my answers were all probably right) but looking at Snow seemed like the preferable option at the time. I noticed that Bunce, who was actually quite close to me, was also staring at Snow. And we were both watching in case he went off, because it felt fairly likely. He didn't, he just kept writing furiously, biting his lip as he grinned. I knew he could do it. I always did.

I waited outside of the hall after the exam, but Snow just walked straight past me, and I didn't have the courage to call after him. I figured he'd be in our room later anyway. He wasn't. He came in at eleven and went straight to bed. 

That's how it's been for the last two days now. But I'm determined to change it. Because I got a change of being close with Simon Snow. And I'm not letting go. I'm wedging my foot in this fucking door before Simon Snow can slam it shut.

 

*

 

When I walk into Chemistry late, Professor Chilblains shoots me a look and informs me that if I'm late to her class one more time, I'll be receiving a detention. I just shrug and throw her a tight smirk before I slip into my seat, dropping my books with a thud onto me and Snow's table. He looks at me, blinks a couple of times before he drops his gaze back down, biting his lip. 

I impatiently jolt my knee under the table as I wait for Professor Chilblains to tell us how to do the experiment and let us get on with it, so I can talk to Snow. But she doesn't give us an experiment to do, she instead passes out mock exams and says we can use this period to revise for the actual exam. Everyone moans and starts complaining (because to be fair we just had a mock) but Professor Chilblains just tells us that if we rather we can sit in silence for the period. As soon as she sits at her desk everyone's instantly up and switching partners apart from me and Snow who stay rooted to the desk, I pull the revision sheet towards me before I look up at him and arch an eyebrow. He just smiles awkwardly before he looks around the room, but everyone's already switched partners, and his sidekick isn't in class today because she's ill. So I guess he's stuck with me.

“How did the Chemsitry exam go, then?” Snow asks after a couple minutes of everyone else in the room talking and us sitting in awkward silence. He's tapping the desk with his pencil and his knee's bouncing up and down. When I don't answer immediately, he looks down at the paper and frowns before he groans lightly. Then he ignores it and instead turns back to me, waiting for my answer like he cares all of a sudden. 

“Fine,” I shrug with a small sigh. “Probably fucked up a couple of questions.”

“You didn’t check your answers?” he asks, tilting his head, his face a cast of shock.

“Ran out of time,” I lie, because that’s better than telling him the truth. Preferable over telling him that I spent twenty minutes imagining kissing him while everyone else in the room was panicking over question ten apparently (the answer was a). “Oh,” he nods, running his tongue over his teeth. This  is the shittest, cringiest, most awkward small talk that has ever taken place. And it's making me want to ash my head in. “Cool,” he murmurs before he grimaces and scratches his jaw. Why is he being so fucking weird?

“How did you find it?” I ask as I look back down at the revision sheet and start filling it out. 

“Good,” Snow grins as his face brightens up, instantly less awkward. “Really good, actually,” he smiles and a second later his knee bumps into mine and at first I think it was an accident but then it stays there. And then I almost black out. “I don’t think I could’ve done it without you,” he says, biting his bottom lip as he looks down at the paper even though he hasn't written anything yet.

Is this a dream? Crowley, I’m being a clique but I think I might actually be dreaming because my knee is touching Simon Snow’s knee. “You can pay me back later,” I shrug, smiling softly as I keep scrawling. He doesn't respond but he nods slowly before he looks at me, blue eyes bright. "I mean, we could-" he starts but Professor Chilblains interrupts him. 

"By the amount of talking you're doing I would expect that you two have finished your papers," she says as she comes up to our bench and looks down at our sheets. "But it looks like Mr Snow hasn't even finished writing his name." I look around and sigh when I see that the rest of the class is watching us. 

"Sorry Miss," Snow murmurs and Professor Chilblains looks like she wants to say something else when the bell rings. She sighs and says we can all go (even though everyone's already out of their seats) before she starts collecting in the discarged papers on the desks. 

I pick up my books and am about to turn to Snow but he's already gone. Crowley. I stay rooted where I am for a moment, clutching my books to my chest and staring at Snow's empty seat. I only look up when Professor Chilblains says from her desk, "Don't you have another class to be at, Mr Pitch?" I gulp before I nod and tear my gaze away from Snow's seat. "Are you alright, Basilton?" I nod quickly before I stride out of the room, ignoring Professor Chilblain calling after me.

 

*

 

"Oi, oi, Baz," Niall's loud voice breaks the still air in the library. Everyone turns to glare at him but he just grins and finger guns them as he walks towards me. Merlin's beard, I have the worst fucking friends.   

"This is a library," I hiss when he falls into the chair opposite me. 

"So?" he asks, pulling the book I'm reading towards him. 

I snatch the book back and narrow my eyes at him. "So shut the fuck up."

He just snorts before his phone beeps. He eyes me as he pulls it out of his pocket. "It's Dev," he tells me. Like I care.

"Okay," I shake my head to let him know that I don't care, as I turn the page. I'm tying to study for Latin, but my head is just screaming Simon Snow over and over again, because it's been two days since Chemistry and two days of him ignoring me and blushing whenever I speak.

"He wants to know why you're not at practise," Niall says, looking from his phone to me.

"'Cause my leg hurts," I lie, scratching my jaw. "And I need to study."

"No you don't,' Niall says, crinkling his nose. "The mocks are over, Baz."

"You do know we still have our actual exams. As in the ones that _matter_ ," I tell him and smirk when he rolls his eyes and holds up the middle finger. After a couple of minutes of me absently flicking through pages of Latin that I'm not reading and of Niall playing Temple Run, I suddenly hear Bunce's loud voice. "Have you seen Simon?" she's asking someone. And she sounds worried. 

Instantly I think that he must be dead. Or the Humdrum has him. Or he's been attacked.

I stand up when Bunce rounds the corner and stops when she sees me and Niall. "Have you seen Simon?" she asks begrudgingly. She must be desperate if she's asking me. 

"Not since this morning," I say, shaking my head. Bunce nods and bites her bottom lip before she turns to leave when I call after her. "Why? What's he done?"

"Nothing," she replies with a hint of annoyance in her voice. "that concerns you, Baz," she frowns.

"He broke up with Agatha," Niall chimes in as he keeps scrolling through his phone. He doesn't even bother to look up at us. 

"He what?" I ask at the same time Bunce asks, 'How do you know?"

"Everyone knows," Niall shrugs. "Happened a couple hours ago, right?" he looks up at us, eyebrows arched. " _What_?" he asks, obviously confused by me and Bunce's confusion. "Oh and he was by the football pitch a couple  of minuted ago."

"How do you know that?" Bunce asks, eyebrows knitted and anger painted on her face. "How do you know Simon broke-"

"Dev texted me," Niall says nonchalantly. "Snow came by looking for Baz at practise." He _what_? My heart plunges and I look at Bunce who's staring at me, wide-eyed. 

"And you're only telling me this _now_?" I hiss, flicking Niall on the temple. He pushes me off but tips his head back to throw me a smirk. 

"I didn't think you would care, Baz. It's only Snow," he winks and I swear to Merlin that if I wasn't already striding towards the door, I would spell his mouth shut. Then I hear him ask, "Hey Bunce, you got a date for the Winter Ball yet?" And Bunce snorting in response. 

 

*

 

I find Snow near the yew trees. Surrounded by goats.

It's a strange sight, watching Snow pat them as he kneels on the ground in his uniform. He's hung his jumper and blazer on one of the branches of the tree so he's just got his shirt on, even though it's pretty cold out. He still hasn't noticed me walking towards him yet so it lets me watch him being him. He picks up one of the small goats and I smile to myself as I watch him smile softly, stroking the goat's head. 

He's pretty far away from the school and we only have about an hour till the drawbridge closes. I tip my head to the sky as I gaze at the blue sky and the stars. That's one good thing about Watford being in the middle of nowhere. The stars. It almost makes up for the Aldi. 

As I get closer to Snow, doubt sparks in my chest. Maybe he's still pissed at me for some reason I can't figure out. Maybe he realised what a fucking loser I am and that's why he's been ignoring me. Maybe I should just turn around. Yeah, I'll just leave and go. Leave Snow and his goats and his unbreakable thoughts and his blue eyes and bronze curls and tapping hands and jolting knees.

"Baz?" A small, quiet voice says my name and when I turn around, Snow's staring right at me, back against the yew tree and goat on his lap. 

"Hey," I say, trying to keep my voice from wavering. He doesn't move but he also doesn't stop staring at me with those fucking eyes so I drop down next to him and the goat instantly scurries off. Great. Even fucking goats hate me.

"What are you doing out here?" I ask, trying not to count the freckles on the face that is very close to mine. He shrugs (most of Snow's replies consists of shrugs) and tilts his head up to the sky. 

He's so beautiful.

"I needed some air," he murmurs. 

He's so pure. 

"Needed somewhere to think," he bites on his bottom lip as he blinks, not looking away from the blinking stars that are illuminating his face.

He's so kind. And good. And special. And smart.

"I broke up with Agatha," he mumbles, pushing his tongue into his cheek as he looks at me, his eyes big as he searches my face. 

"I know," I nod, holding my breath. He cocks his head at me and arches an eyebrow. "Niall told me. Don't know how he found out." Snow gives a huff of amusement, but I can't tell if it's sardonic or not. He doesn't do anything else just pushes himself up and starts stroking the goats again. I watch as he leans over and his shirt rides up, exposing his lean chest, decorated in faint scars. He looks to the school, a muscle in his jaw twitching.  

"Why'd you do it?" I ask tentatively, not really sure if I'm in the place to ask. 

"Do you like the Arctic Monkeys?" Snow asks, completely ignoring my question. He turns to me, his lips tight and eyes wide.

"I mean, _yeah._  They're fine?" I say but it comes out as a question. Snow nods and pulls his phone out. I watch him, very confused as to what's happening right now, as he plays I Bet You Look Good On The Dance-floor. If I'm being honest, I don't really like this song that much but I don't voice that opinion as Snow slips his phone, still blaring Arctic Monkeys, into his blazer pocket on the branch before he looks at me.

"It's getting dark," I say. "We should go back," I suggest, because Snow looks very strange right now and I start to wonder if maybe he's ill or something. He shakes his head. Then he sits down next to me again. And then he just whispers my name.

"Baz," he murmurs sleepily, watching me carefully.

"Simon," I breathe before I realise what I'm doing. And suddenly, as if me whispering his name instead of his surname unlocked something inside of him, Snow grins. Like a massive, proper grin. 

"You said my name," he whispers, still very close to me. If I moved an inch we'd be touching. "That's the second time you've done that."

"It is," I admit, looking down at him. "I guess I must be warming up to you," I whisper, chewing on my bottom lip. He's so close and I can almost hear his heart and I can smell him (bacon and cinnamon) and he's so beautiful and I think I might kiss him but then if I do that everything would be fucked.

"I would hope so," he murmurs. "We already promised that we wouldn't kill each other." I laugh softly at that and Snow grins. We stay still for a moment, the hum of Arctic Monkeys and the soft bleating of the goats the only sounds.

"Why did you break up with Agatha?" I ask again, watching his blue eyes watch me. He just shakes his head lightly. "I hate this song," I smirk when another Arctic Monkeys song starts playing dimly from inside Snow's blazer.

“I like it," Snow murmurs.

"Guess we don't have a lot in common," I murmur as I watch Snow's eyes drop. I follow Snow's eyes and look down to where he's looking. Our hands are both on the grass, very, very close to each other. My breathing hitches and I debate doing it, think about grabbing Snow's hand, but I don't have time because his hand's already gripping mine. _Fuck_. Does he realise what he's doing?

I feel myself go red slightly as I look up and meet Snow's eyes. “What are you thinking about?” I ask quietly. He doesn't answer and I feel all the moisture from my mouth disappear. “Nothing?” I ask, almost whispering, as Snow's hands weigh heavy in mine.

Snow shakes his head. “Everything,” he breathes, looking up at me from under his long eyelashes. 

“Everything,” I repeat slowly. Snow nods, a small, confident smile on his lips.

“You.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments make me very happy x


	10. You and I Haven't Got Much to Lose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Try to be with you. Try to be good for you."

BAZ

"You."

He says it so clearly and with confidence all the while staring intently at me. Crowley.

I want to kiss him. This is perfect. Perfect timing. Perfect setting. Perfect person.

So I just lean forward and push my lips against his. And he doesn't push me away or bring his sword out and stab me like I was honestly expecting. He kisses me back. And its hot. Not as in sexy. As in warm. Snow's skin is warm to the touch and I can't tell if it's because I'm dead and I'm used to my skin being like ice or if Snow's just literally the sun.

I can hear his pulse as his hand ends up on my cheek. 

He'd definitely done this before. He's tilting his head and pushing me back slightly. He really is a good kisser. I thought it might be bullshit.

For all the time I've spent this year in class watching him bite his lip and yawn when we're studying or watch him grinning at those scones of his - I never thought kissing those lips would be like this. Never thought he'd feel so whole and warm and mine. 

His hands end up on my neck and mine end up in his curls and I don't think time is passing anymore. He tastes like mint and cherry and almonds somehow all at once. He slants his head to deepen the kiss and for the first time in my life I don't object to something Snow's doing; I just let go instead.

The kiss obliterates every thought. For the first time in forever my mind's locked into the now. My usual angst-ridden mind is almost clear. Apart from one thought. Simon Snow. The soft thud of my looming death that's always at the back of my head is gone, replaced with Snow's blue eyes. The worries of the wars and the Humdrum are pushed out by Snow's freckles.

His hands are on my cheeks and I can feel them getting warmer. I can feel everything. Suddenly, he sucks my lip softly and I think I might die right now. I don't think I'd actually mind that. Simon fucking Snow is kissing me.

 

*

 

"Why?" I murmur, breaking the still air. We stopped kissing a couple of minutes ago and now we're just sitting very close, Snow's head on my shoulder as he traces the lines in my hand. Snow's phone's started playing someone called Conan Grey and even though I don't mind the song, I am starting to get more concerned about the fact that the drawbridge will be drawing very soon.

"Why'd I kiss you? Or why you?" he asks, tilting his head to look up at me. His face is slightly pink. It only makes his freckles more prominent. I lean down and kiss the three moles on his cheek before I murmur, 'Both.'

He shrugs at first, leaning more into me. "I kissed you cause I wanted to, I guess. Because everyone thinks you're a prick that wants to kill us all but I don't think you do. Because I like you." 

"I like you too," I murmur, tracing the faint scar on his face. "And the scar's cool, you were right." We don't say anything after that for a while, just stay sitting against the tree, Snow leaning on me, his whole warmth pouring into me.

"I'm not good at stuff like this." He says it so quietly that at first I think he didn't say anything at all. "I broke up with Agatha and I couldn't even give her a reason. And I know I was a bad boyfriend but I don't really know why I was such a bad boyfriend."

"Okay," I say, because I don't really know where he's going with this.

"But I can try," he says before he pushes himself up and looks me dead in the eye, biting the inside of his cheek. Crowley, he really is bad with words.

"Try what, Snow?" I ask, eyebrows raised. 

"Try to be with you. Try to be good for you," he says, shuffling forward towards me to wrap his arms around my neck. Fuck. This boy is really something else.

"You're the good one here, Simon," I smile softly. "But we can try, I'll...I'll try. If you want this." He just nods in response before his lips are on mine again and he's pulling me back in to his warmth.

 

*

 

I'm waiting anxiously outside of the Alchemy classroom. Everyone got their mock results back in their registration classes but me and Simon are in different classes. And I didn't manage to catch him before his next class. And since I had a free period, I've spent the last hour sitting outside of Simon's class, trying to distract myself with pictures of Simon he took on my phone. But it's not working. I exit out of photos and start playing the Arctic Monkeys through my earphones which also doesn't distract me because they just remind me of Simon because last night he played Do I Wanna Know and then he practically pounced on me. So, I just push myself up from the floor and decide to watch the back of Simon's head from the door for the next seven minutes.

I guess we're sort of boyfriends now? I mean it's been two weeks since that first kiss. And since then it's just been a lot more kissing.

It still feels strange. Boyfriends. Not bad (certainly not bad), just different. No one knows, apart from Bunce, (which I can deal with) and Dev and Niall. I didn't tell them. I specifically made the conscious decision to not tell them. Because they're twats. They only found out because they relentlessly stalked me until they found me and Simon pulling in the Greek corridor. They don't bring it up a lot. The last time they did was because Dev reminded Niall that he owed his a tenner for not believing in me. When I asked them to explain they simply told me that they'd put a bet on me and Simon. And Niall lost.

I duck down and stand to the side when the bell rings and everyone starts filing out of the classroom. Simon and Bunce are out last (as usual) and as soon as he steps out of the room, clutching his books to his chest and grinning down at Bunce, I grab his arm and pull him off to the side. Bunce rolls her eyes before she keeps on walking. "See you in Greek," she says to us both.

"Wait Penny," Simon calls and Bunce pauses. "Did we have Greek homework?" 

"The second paragraph..." I stop listening to what they're talking about and start bouncing from foot to foot because I've been waiting for a solid fucking hour now. Also Simon's doing that thing where he bites his lip and scratches the back of his neck. And it's very cute.  

When they've finally finished talking, I quickly drag Simon into an empty corridor. He looks up at me, smiling brightly. "Hey," he bites his lip. I watch as he drops his books onto the window ledge next to us before he turns back to me. He leans against the wall, legs crossed casually. Since dating Simon, I've realised that his legs are actually very long. Most of Simon's limbs are long. And his chest is lean and-

" _Baz_ ," Simon's voice pulls me back and I blink a couple of times before speaking.

"Hello," I run my tongue over my teeth as I look down at him. "Are you going to make me ask?" I ask, eyebrow arched.

"You can go first," he says, watching me carefully. His backs pressed against the wall and he's smirking up at me. He likes this. Me being anxious while he keeps me waiting. 

"All As," I say, embarrassment fluttering in my chest. Three months ago, I would've revelled in telling everyone my scores, but then I started seeing Simon, and realised that grades don't add to a person. 

"That's amazing!" he grins, going on his toes to press a kiss to my mouth. Normally I would kiss him back, but he's still not told me. It's not as if I care what he got. I just want him to do well for _him_. These results have been keeping him from sleeping, eating and smiling this past week. "They're only mocks," I shrug. "They don't matter." He nods before reaching up and tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering on my face. "Your turn," I smile tentatively. He frowns slightly and awkwardly scratches the back of his neck. "They're not as good as your marks," he warns me in a steady voice. I frown when his face goes red and he pushes his tongue into his cheek.

"Simon," I whisper softly. "You don't have to tell me. I just wanted to know if you're okay." When I say that, a smirk creeps up onto his face.

"I know," he nods, his face a cast of laughter. "You were waiting outside all period," he says, giving a huff of amusement. I feel redness sneak up my neck. If I had my old complexion (my not dead complexion and instead a dark tan like my mother had had) I'd be crimson right now. "Penny saw."

"I just want to know if you're okay," I just repeat, gulping. "And I had a free period so I just-"

"It's cute," he cuts me off, taking a step forwards, before he takes a breath in and looks down at the ground. "Five Bs, a C, and two As. One of which was Chemistry," he spits them out rapidly as if it pains him to tell me. When I don't say anything, he looks up to meet my eyes.

"Simon," I grin, like a proper massive grin, before I grab his hand and squeeze it lightly. "That's properly amazing."

"I mean it's definitely  _not_ ," he murmurs, looking up at me from his eyelashes. 

"It is. So are you. You're amazing, Snow," I breathe before I lean down and kiss him lightly. 

"The Chosen One." He gives a humourless laugh, dropping my hand to rake his fingers through his hair. "The World of Mages is fucked if I'm their chosen one. Can barely pass Greek."

"Greek doesn't matter," I tell him, my fingers lingering on his neck. "No one fucking speaks Greek anymore in normal conversation."

"You do!" he protests. "You and your family speak Greek together. And Italian. And fucking French."

"Only when my sisters are there, so they can learn," I start. He rolls his eyes as he leans against the wall. "Anyway, the only person I want to talk to is you, Snow. Crowley knows why, you're very vexing sometimes." He smiles softly before he pushes himself up off of the wall and takes a step towards me.

"I'd rather do something else right now," he smirks before he grabs onto my neck and crashes his lips against mine; hungry and wanting. I push him back against the wall as he rakes his fingers through my hair, his legs getting tangled in mine. I know he's only kissing me because he wants to stop talking, but I don't pull away, like I probably should. Because Simon Snow (especially his lips) is literally the only thing that matters to me now. Fuck the wars. Fuck the Humdrum. Fuck exams. There's just me and Simon. And that's the best thing that's ever happened to me.


	11. Wise Men Say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Let’s go to the ball, Mr Snow.”

* epilogue *

* two months later *

 

SIMON

"So," I start as I play with Baz's hair. I like Baz's hair. I like twisting it in my fingers. I like combing it through my fingers. I just really like Baz. All of Baz. I like how he can read a whole book in like an hour. I like how he hums to himself when he thinks no ones paying attention. I like how when he sleeps he scrunches his face up. I like Baz. A lot. Even the vampire bit. Which he told me about a month ago.

"I need to tell you something," he said tentatively one night. We were sitting against my bed, my head on Baz's shoulder as we watched Call Me By Your Name (illegally, but I’m sure I’ve done a lot worse than pirating a film. That movie really fucked me up. Like I was trying not to cry at the end. And then I gave up and let the tears cling to my jaw. Also, Baz really looks like Timothée Chalamet. Just kinda more buff. And more magical.)

I looked up at him when he paused it, kinda pissed because it was just getting good, but he had a serious face on, so I just bit my lip and waited for him to speak. "I'm dead," he said, his voice wavering slightly. "You were right the whole time," he breathed. "And I didn't want to tell you incase you broke up with me but I won't blame you if you do because I'm a monster and-"

"You talk too much when you're nervous," was all I said. Then I went to press play. But Baz grabbed my wrist, his fingers cold against my skin.

"Did you hear what I just _said, Snow_?" he asked, grey eyes wide. 

"Yeah," I said with a smile. "You just admitted that I was right. Which, I always am and would appreciate if you now recognised that." He just looked at me like I was insane. Which, I guess maybe I am. But really, I don't give a fuck if Baz's a vampire. 

"Simon," Baz said, his tone serious. "I am a _vampire_ and you-"

"Doesn't make you dead," I shrugged before I tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear. He just batted my hand away. "I highly doubt you eat people on a regular basis," I said, eyebrow arched.

"Of course not," he said, eyebrows lowered. "I'm not-"

"A monster?" I asked and Baz looked away sheepishly. "I know you're not. You're Baz. A tory with pale skin that likes salt and vinegar crisps and just happens to have fangs." I shook my head before I settled back into him. "Now can we please get back to the movie?" And that was that. I watch him carefully now, as I brush my knuckles up and down his cold cheeks.

"So what?" Baz asks, looking up from Anna Karenina. He slides the bookmark in (becuase according to Baz, folding the top of a book’s pages is criminal) before he looks up to meet my eyes.

"I was thinking about the Winter dance," I say tentatively, because I have no idea how Baz is going to react. He doesn't say anything, just closes his book. “And that maybe we should go," I say, wetting my lip.

"As in go _together_?" he asks, eyebrow arched. I just nod, pushing my tongue into his cheek. "As in _together_ , together?” I just nod again, smiling slightly. I shuffle forward slightly and lean my forehead against Baz's, my hand on his neck as I nudge his nose with mine. "As in together, together, Basilton."

"I though you were going with Penelope," he breathes, tapping his fingers on my knee. 

"She says that if we're both going, we're gonna end up ignoring her anyway and she doesn't want to third wheel at a school dance," I say, remembering Penny's face when I told her I was thinking about asking Baz to the dance. It was the same face she'd made after I told her I got an A in Chemistry.

"I thought that was her new job," Baz smirks. "Being the most attractive couple's third wheel." I giggle softly before I press a kiss against Baz's nose. I love Baz's nose. "What about Wellbelove?" he asks gingerly, his cool grey eyes watching me warily. "I was going to tell her today," I sigh. "I should probably tell her before everyone else finds out." He just nods before he runs his right hand through my hair. 

"What about _everyone_?" Baz asks softly, running his fingers down my neck. 

"Fuck 'em," I say, pulling back slightly so I can look at the whole of his face. 

"Two months ago you were saying you didn't know if you were gay, Simon," Baz says, arching an eyebrow as he drops his hands from my neck to his sides. I push my tongue into my cheek. I still don't know if I'm gay. The only thing I know for sure is that I like Baz. A lot. And I'm tired of having to drag him into an abandoned corridor or empty Magic Words classroom. 

"I still don't know," I admit and when Baz's throat bobs I try and ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach. "But I know I like you. And I like to dance." Baz snorts.

"You're a shit dancer, Snow," he smirks. I shrug. "But okay," he nods and my heart swells. "Let's go to the ball, Mr Snow."

 

*

 

I really need to tell Agatha. The ball is in a week and I should tell her before she finds out from someone else. But Agatha is quite hard to find. I finally find her against her locker swiping through her phone after third period. She looks beautiful. I tighten my fists as I force my feet to walk and when she looks up, I fight the urge to spin around and sprint away. When I reach her she doesn’t say anything, just watches me gingerly as she flips her long, blonde hair over her shoulders. 

So, uh... I'm just gonna talk,” I start, scratching the back of my neck. She doesn’t say anything, just looks down at her feet, clutching her books against her chest. "I wasn't very fair to you in our relationship." She makes a noise that's between a snort and a sniff. “I wasn’t very...present.”

"I'll say." Agatha’s voice isn't toned to hurt. It sounds wrong. She just sounds tired.

"And I'm sorry. You deserved better,” I swallow. I don’t know how to get this out. It’s like my words just won’t come out. "But I... couldn't be fair to you." It comes out like a question. She looks up at me, brows furrowed in a frown.

"What's that supposed to mean? I don't need your excuses, Simon." She sounds pissed. "You weren't even there, at the end. You weren't there."

"I know, I... I'm sorry." Agatha looks like she's going to spell me, or cry. Or both.

"What do you mean, Simon?” she asks, tapping her fingers impatiently on her Physics book. Agatha took all three sciences. 

"I mean... I couldn't be. At least not at the end. I was...” She’s starting at me, golden eyes watering.

"Never mind. I gotta go, Simon. I’ll see you around, okay." She softly shuts her locker, going to walk past me. I catch her pale wrist. Why is this so hard?

"Please, Agatha, please hear me out." She turns back to me, her pretty face frowning.

"Fine, just... talk, please. I’ve got to get to class.”

"Look, you're very _nice,_ Agatha...” She's glaring at me now. I try and pedal backwards, stammering slightly. "I- I've realized I wasn't able to-"

"To be present in our relationship?"

"No, to...Agatha, I-" Am I actually going to tell her this? Yes. She deserves to know. But my stomach is churning. "I'm-" Why can't I say it? "I'm pretty sure I'm-" I don’t even know how to say this. But I see it in her eyes the moment she guesses.

"Simon..." Her face goes through ten expressions in a second. "So was it all pretend the whole time? You were just _using_ me becuase you were confused!” Her golden eyes are getting wet. Fuck. Shit.

"No, Agatha no. Not at all. I didn't even... realize until..."

"Is it Baz?" She says it stone cold, her eyes watering. I don’t say anything. I look around, everyone walking down the hall is looking at us but pretending not to. Then I gasp silently when Baz and Niall appear at the top of the corridor. Niall’s elbowing Baz and Baz’s ruffling Niall’s hair. My heart plummets. 

“Was it when you started studying with him? _Months_ ago. He taught you Chemistry so you fell in love with him? Is that it, Simon?”

"Agatha, no, that's not-"

"Why didn't you just tell me?" Her voice is quiet, choked.

"I didn't know myself until..." I trail off. Agatha purses her lips, looking at me with big, wet eyes. "I'm sorry you were in that situation." I don’t know what else to say.

"So you weren't there with me because of Baz?" She's talking too loud. Everyone’s watching us. My stomach drops further.

"Stop twisting my words, that's not- I didn't know, Agatha. And Baz isn't-" She gives me a look like she could turn me to stone and turns. I don’t watch her walk away. I spin on my heel and run in the opposite direction.

 

*

 

Baz finds me after the fourth period class I ditched. (I’ve never patched class before. Sometimes people I know, like Will or Rhys and Matt, sneak out after lunch, to play football or just piss about, but I never go with them. I’m just too full of pressing anxiety to hold up my Chosen One reputation right now.) I’m hiding in a second-floor bathroom stall, my knees to my chest on the closed toilet.

I think I might cry. I can feel the thick, stuffiness behind my eyes, but the tears refuse to come- it's fucking maddening. I bury my head in my arms when the door creaks open, footsteps echoing in the tiled room.

"Snow?"

 _Baz_.

It's Baz’s voice, as worried as I’ve ever heard it. I have no idea how to respond or what to say (becuase I’m siting in a bathroom stall trying not to cry), so I just don’t. Baz hisses my name again. He isn’t necessarily saying my name nicely, or like he really wants to, but he’s doing it anyway. Even if he’s hissing it. Cause deep down, he does care.

I could ignore him, wait it out until he leaves. But Baz is the only person I really care about talking to right now. The only person I want to talk to. I slowly unwinds, my feet clapping against the floor.

"Snow. Crowley.” Baz sighs with relief. “I've looked everywhere. Thought you’d maybe spelled yourself to London." Baz’s feet, with his posh, designer shoes are in front of the stall now. I can hear him breathing heavy, like he's been running up stairs. Baz can run really fast. If Watford had a track team he would definetly be on it.

"How'd you know I was missing?” I ask, hating that my voice is wavering. “You’re not in my Latin class.”

"I ran into Wellbelove in the hall." My chest immediately caves in with a rush of anxiety. Fuck, fuck. Fucking fuck. I don’t say anything, so Baz just continues, his voice soft and tentative. "She told me I should go find my... boyfriend." I let my head fall back on my knees. "What happened, Snow?”

" _Simon_ ," Baz asks gently. "Please open the door." I sigh into my knees before I push the door open with my foot. It swings open a few inches, creaking. And there he is, his brow furrowed as he stares back at me. Then Baz’s in the stall, pulling the door closed again. 

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" His voice is as kind as Baz’s voice gets and his hands are freezing on my shoulders even though I’ve got a jumper on. It might be Baz’s actually. The red one I gave him back a couple months ago.

"You're late to class,” I protest. Not that I necessarily want Baz to leave. I never want Baz to leave.

"Its Herbology. I’m not complaining." I knows Baz likes herbolgy. He's good at it- he's good at everything. But he's staying with me anyway, and that makes me feel fuzzy.

"Talk to me." Baz’s voice is barely above a whisper. He brushes a curl that I didn't even realize was in my face behind my ear. He rests his hand on my face and pulls me against his chest

"I thought...I thought I owed her an explanation." My eyes are getting wet now.

"You didn’t. You don’t owe anyone anything, Simon. But it’s okay,” he murmurs. “You’re okay. We’re okay.” And even though Baz’s saying calming things my heart is speeding up and I feel a bit faint. “Simon,” I hear Baz’s voice over my heart which is beating too fast. “You’re having a panic attack. You need to breathe. Breathe Simon.” I try and nod but that makes my stomach squeeze and my eyesight go fuzzy. “You’re okay, Simon. Just breathe, okay? Breathe,” Baz keeps saying as he rubs soothing circles on my back. I try and do what he says and breathe deeply as I grab his left hand. 

When I’ve got my sight back and I can breathe again, I lean into Baz and shut my eyes as he wraps his arm around me. My fingers are still white-knuckled as I grab onto Baz’s jumper. “You’re good,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my head. “You’re okay,” he says gently as he runs his soothing fingers through my hair. “You’re okay, Simon. Just breathe. Breathe. I’ve got you.” 

 

*

 

I walk out of the bathroom with my tie in my hand. “I don’t know how to do this properly,” I murmur, but Baz doesn’t respond. I look up from and furrow my eyebrows when I see Baz standing, back to me, at our window. I drop the grey tie on my bed as I walk over to him, my bare feet padding on the floorboards. “Hey,” I murmur as I slide my arms around his waist and bury my head in his neck. “What are you doing?” 

“I finished the book,” he says, sighing as he gestures to the shut book on his bedside table. 

“Okay,” I say slowly, kind of confused. “How’d it end?” 

“She killed herself,” Baz says quietly, tapping the glass as he looks out to the dark sky. “She was so unhappy that she killed herself. She left her husband and her son for a man she though she was in love with and then their love ended up being obsolete and running her. So she killed herself. It was all pointless.”

“Right, well,” I start as I rake my fingers through Baz’s hair. “That’s enough angsty Russian literature for you,” I snort before I tilt his head so he looks at me. “Are you going to help me with my tie? Or are you going to make me do it myself?”

“Are you still sure about this?” Baz asks as I hand him my tie.

“Of course,” I nod as he starts tying, his fingers grazing my neck. “Why?”

“I just keep picturing you in that stall, panicking...and I don’t want to be...the cause of that,” he breathes, looking down at me  with lowered eyebrows.

“You weren’t,” I shake my head when he steps back after flattening my tie. “And you won’t be.” He pushes his tongue into his cheek before he nods slowly. “I just wanna dance with you,” I sigh, slipping my hand into his. “Together. At a ball.” He nods before I squeeze his hand. “Okay Snow,” he smiles before he tugs me closer towards him and nudges my nose with his, “Take me dancing.”

 

*

 

Baz looks proper fit tonight. He’s left his hair slightly messy and he’s wearing a suit. A nice-fitting, tailored, dark green  _suit._ I never realised how long his legs are _._ As we walk down the corridor together, I look down at my own suit and frown. It’s too big for me and I have to keep pulling the sleeves up. I think it’s maybe Penny’s dad’s. I have no clue where she got it from. She just turned up yesterday and gave it to me after I told her I had nothing to wear. Maybe I should’ve rented something, or asked Penny to spell it to fit more, because I think I look a bit like a child wearing their big brother’s hand me down. I look like a square. I self-consciously rake my fingers through my hair. Which I’m just remembering I didn’t brush. And I’ve got a spot on my cheek.

Fuck. This was a mistake. Crowley, I really think this was a mistake. What was I thinking? This isn’t going to work. Everyone’s going to take the piss. Or think I’m gay. They’re going to follow us around after this and throw shit and call us gaylords. I don’t think I can do this. I’m going to see Agatha and she’s going to hate me. 

Before we reach the door to the hall (which has been temporarily decorated to look like a winter wonderland) I move closer to Baz and grab his hand. He smiles down at me but he’s also looking at me with a worried face. “What’s wrong?” he asks softly as I pull him into a side corridor. I try and ignore the loud hum of Dynamite by Taio Cruz (fuck, I love this song) as I push my tongue into my cheek. Baz traces his fingers down his knuckles.

“Are you sure about this?” I ask Baz quietly. I feel shit now becuase this was _my_ idea and now I’m flaking. He cocks his head.

“Yeah,” he nods, squeezing my hand. “Look Simon, I don’t care about this. I just want to do what you want to. I don’t care about the dance. It’s not important. You are. So if you don’t want to, screw it. Lets go somewhere else. Honestly. I don’t mind.”

“I’m not ashamed,” I say quickly, my throat bobbing.

“I know,” he nods, smiling softly. “But you don’t need to go to some dance to prove it,” he murmurs, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear.

“It’s a ball,” I sigh, leaning closer to him as my fingers linger on his chest. I look up at him and blink as I watch him watch me. Crowley. He’s so beautiful. Like unreal beautiful. I’ve never met someone so... _pretty_. With his nice jaw and pale skin and dark hair that falls in front of his face. His nice face. And sometimes I think he doesn’t realise. Which is sad. He thinks he’s some sort of monster that’s incapable of love. Which he’s not. I’ve seen his face when he calls his little sister. Or when he’s hanging out with Dev and Niall.

“And I’ve been waiting to dance with you for a couple of days now,” I smile as I let my hand drop into his. 

“So,” Baz says gently. “Let’s go dance, Snow.” I nod and we walk towards the hall, my very warm hand in his very cold hand. I try and avoid our classmates’ peering eyes as we walk in. And actually, it’s easy to ignore everyone else when I look at Baz. When we walk off to the side towards the buffet, Baz gently leading me by the hand, the murmurs die down. “Oh, they have mini burgers,” I grin as I pick one up. 

“You just ate dinner, an hour ago,” Baz snorts. I’m about to roll my eyes when a slow song comes on. Baz’s face lights up as soon as it starts, but I have no idea what it is. “I love this song,” he murmurs softly, his grey eyes sparkling.

“Why?” I ask as I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “Never heard it.” Baz stares at me, eyes wide. 

“This is arguably the most famous love song ever, Snow,” Baz gapes, smiling slightly when I shrug. “Elvis Presley?” I just shrug again. Baz shakes his head as he looks at me like I’m on fire but I just snort and grab his hand, pulling him onto the dance floor where everyone else is dancing together. It’s awkward at first, not becuase I’m dancing with Baz, but because I have no idea how to dance.

“What’s it called?” I ask softly, my head resting against Baz’s. He makes a murmuring sound and I smirk when I realise he’s completely forgotten what we were talking about. “The song. What’s it called?” 

“Can’t Help Falling in Love,” he says quietly as I rest my hand on his neck. Oh.

“Why’d you like it so much?” I ask and he looks up, meeting my eyes. 

“Mother used to sing it to me,” he says quietly as he frowns softly. “When I couldn’t sleep.” I don’t say anything else, just press a kiss against his cheek, ignoring that the soft murmurs in the hall rise to loud exclamations.

“I like it,” I nod as he pulls me tighter against him as we bop slowly to Baz’s song. 

“I like you,” Baz says, tracing my jaw with his fingers.

“I like you too.”

As I dance with Baz, I look around and glare at the couples that dance too close to us. But even though I stare at them, I don’t feel sick, like I imagined I would. I don’t feel ashamed, and I’m not blushing. Because I could never feel ashamed with Baz. Ever. And dancing to this song (which might be my new favourite song) with Baz (who may or may not be my boyfriend, which is _mad_ ) makes my heart squeeze. In a good way.

And yeah, maybe we won’t last. Maybe we’ll break up next week after a stupid argument. But maybe we won’t. Maybe we’ll outlast these wars and maybe we’ll move out together after school and get a dog. Or maybe I’ll die and Baz’ll weep over my grave. I just know that I really like Baz. Maybe I love Baz. Not that I’m going to tell him that. Maybe I don’t. Maybe I am gay. Maybe I’m not. But I don’t care. 

I just care about dancing with Baz, in a dark-green suit right here and right now. I smile as I wrap my arms around his neck tighter and pull him into a kiss. “I really like you, Baz. And I don’t want you to die.” Baz laughs lightly as he tugs me tighter. And fuck, being in his arms feels so right. “I really like you too, Snow. And I don’t want you to die.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that’s the end. Thanks so much for all your lovely comments and kudos, it encourages me and my writing so much! Now that’s the end of this Baz and Simon story but the first chapter of the next story - Secrets, Stars and Aero Bars - in the series is out now! Very angsty, very vampiric and very oblivious Simon.
> 
> Also, I’m going to start doing requests, so if you have any headcannons or AUs or story ideas you want me to write, drop them in the comments below :)


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